E  AC1  TV 


COL.  GEORGE  WASHINGTON  FLOWERS 
MEMORIAL  COLLECTION 


DUKE  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARY 
DURHAM,  N.  C. 


PRESENTED  BY 

W.  W.  FLOWERS 


m 


JOSEPH  RUZICKA 
BOOKBINDERS 

BALTIMORE. MO. 
CWfcENSBOWO.NC. 
WASHINGTON.  O.C 


- 


TXI  TC. 


BRITISH  PARTIZAN: 


TALE  OF  THE  OLDEN  TIME. 


BY  A  LADY  OF  SOUTH  CAROLINA 


m:acost,   OA.. 
BURKE,    BOYKIN   k    COMPANY 

1804. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1864,  by 

BURKE,  BOYKIN  A  CO., 

in  the  office  of  the  Clerk  of  the  District  Court  of  Southern  Georgia. 


THE  FLOWERS  COLLECTION 

TO  THE  READER. 


The  following  beautiful  Novelette  appeared  originally  in  the 
pages  of  the  "Augusta  3firror,n  a  literary  periodical  published 
in  Augusta,  Georgia,  some  twenty-five  years  ago,  and  for  which 
it  was  written  by  its  gifted  author,  a  young  lady  of  South  Caro- 
lina, in  competition  for  a  prize  offered  by  the  publisher  for  the 
best  romance  founded  on  incidents  in  the  revolutionary  history  of 
Georgia  and  South  Carolina:  Through  the  medium  of  the  "  Mir* 
ror"  it  acquired  a  popularity  at  the  time  only  limited  by  the 
circulation  of  that  periodical,  and  what  was  remarkable  in  that 
day  of  our.  literary  as  well  as  commercial,  if  not  political,  vas- 
salage to  the  North,  it  elicited  the  most  flattering  encomiums 
from  the  Northern  literary  journals — the  "Knickerbocker"  declaring 
that  it  approached  more  nearly  to-  the  style  and  genius  of  Sir 
"Walter  Scott,  than  any  novel  that  had  yet  been  written  this 
side  of  the  Atlantic.  To  meet  the  demand  for  the  story  an  edi- 
tion was  printed  in  book  form,  only  a  small  portion  of  which, 
however,  reached  the  public,  the  greater  part  of  the  edition  hav- 
ing beeu  destroyed  while  in  sheets  by  the  flood  which  inundated 
Augusta  in  1840.  Circumstances  prevented  the  publication  of  a 
second  edition  of  the  book,  and  in  a  few  years  the  "  British 
Partizan,"  at  first  so  much  sought  for,  had  passed  out  of  print, 
and  in  time  out  of  the  memory  of  the  public.  In  reproducing 
it  now  from  the  pages  of  perhaps  the  only  copy  of  the  ''Mirror" 
extant,  the  publishers  are  actuated  not  less  by  a  high  apprecia- 
tion of  its  literary  merits,  than  by  the  belief  that  it  is  a  story 
peculiarly  suited  to  the  times  in  which  we  live.  It  is  a  tale  of 
true  love,  wrought  out  amid  the  stirring  scenes  and  harsh  vicis- 
situdes of  partizan  strife,  in  which  the  actors  are  the  representa- 
tives of  real  characters,  whose  aspirations  and  passions,  whose- 
virtues  and  vices,  trials  and  sufferings,  triumphs  and  misfortunes, 
are  developed  and  portrayed  in  an  ideal  history  of  intenso  dra- 
matic interest. 


27fi4fin 


4  TO    THE    RFADtiR. 

But  it  is  not  our  desire  to  forestall  tl>e  judgment  of  the  reader, 
r  to  anticipate  the  pleasure  which  we  feel  ia  in  store  for  him. 
/ne  remark  more,  and  we  leave  the  reader  to  judge  for  himself 
how  far  we  are  correct  in  our  partial  estimation  of  the  author. 
The  "British  Partisan"  was  her  first  literary  effort.  Quite 
young  at  the  time,  her  first  essay  in  the  world  of  letters  gave 
promise  of  a  literary  fame  second  to  that  of  no  female  writer  of 
America.  But  a  second  story — shorter  but  of  equal  merit — enti- 
tled "The  Rencontre,"  also  published  in  the  "Mirror"  was  her 
last.  In  the  very  beginning  of  what  must  have  been  a  most 
brilliant  and  successful  career  as  a  writer  of  fiction,  circumstance* 
induced  in  her  a  resolve,  from  a  conscientious  motive,  forever  to 
renounce  a  field  of  usefulness  for  which  she  was  so  pre-eminently 
endowed. 

Reader,  as  she  leads  you,  as  with  the  wand  of  an  encluintress 
through  this  beautiful  romance  of  "the  olden  time" — as  by  the 
way  you  dwell  in  ecstacy  over  her  charming  landscapes  so  viv- 
idly set  before  the  imagination,  or  with  the  mind's  eye  look 
upon  the  varied  characters  with  which  she  has  peopled  the 
world  of  her  creation — so  real,  so  life-like — and  take  to  your  heart 
tfie  sound  philosophy  and  elevated  moral  sentiment — not  preached 
to  you  in  chapters,  but  which  like  gems  are  strewn  at  random 
throughout  these  pages — you  will,  wo  feel  confident,  unite  with 
us  in  the  regret  that  one  so  girted  has  not  given  to  the  litera- 
ture of  her  country  and  the  world,  the  fruit  of  her  maturer 
years.  "W.  T.  T. 

Savannah,  June,  1&6*. 


THE  BRITISH  PARTIZAN. 


CHAPTER  I. 

u  Sweet  Tiviotl  on  thy  silver  tide 

The  glaring  bale-fires  blaze  no  more  ; 
No  longer  steel-clad  warriors  ride 

Along  thy  wild  and  willow' d  shore  ; 
Where'er  thou  wind'st,  by  dale  or  hill, 

Still  all  is  peaceful,  all  is  still : 
As  if  thy  waves,  since  time  was  born, 

Had  only  heard  the  shepherd's  reed, 
Nor  started  at  the  bugle  horn."  Scott. 

"  I  fall  into  the  trap  laid  for  me ; 
Yet,  who  would  have  suspected  an  ambush 
Where  I  was  taken  ?  Shakspeare. 

Who  has  seen  and  has  not  admired  our  beautiful 
Savannah?  It  is  ever  lovely,  whether  dashing  in 
light  ripples  and  foaming  falls  among  the  flowery 
precipices  and  purple  rocks  of  Habersham,  or 
whether  spreading  its  broad  bosom  to  the  sea,  still 
and  wide,  where  the  shadows  of  painted  barges  and 
smoking  engines  pass  over  it  like  the  illusions  of 
the  enchanters  mirror.  But  in  no  place,  perhaps,  is 
its  beauty  more  striking,  than  where  its  placid  current 
stretches  along  the  noble  border  of  the  District  of 
Abbeville,  its  loveliness  being  there  hallowed  by  the 
B 


276456 


10  THE   BRITISH   PARTIZAN. 

deepest  and  softest  spirit  of  repose,  which  no.  sound 
is  known  to  disturb,  save  the  gush  of  song  from  a 
thousand  birds,  or  the  occasional  recurrence  of  the 
wild  and  pensive  notes  of  a  boatman's  bugle.     For 
many  miles  below  the  "  Point"  where  the  "Broad 
River"  of  Georgia  adds  its  tributary  honors  to  the 
stream,  nothing  can  exceed  the  beauty  of  the  banks, 
whose  massive  foliage,  relieved  against  a  deep  blue 
sky,  bend  over  with  graceful  elegance,  and  dip  their 
soft,  shadowy  archings   in   the   untroubled  waters. 
The  Georgia  bank  is  high,  and  mostly  rugged ;  but 
on  the  other  side  is  a  vast  extent  of  rich  and  fertile 
lowland,    presenting  at  the   time   of  which  we  are 
writing,  a  thick  wooded  level,  where  the  Indian  girl 
might  well  have  loved  to  sit  and  weave  her  baskets 
of  cane  and  bamboo,   relieving  her  light  task  with 
songs,  and  twining  chaplets  of  flowers.     But  even 
at  that  time,  the  song  of  the  Indian  girl  had  long 
ceased  to  vibrate  in  the   echoes  of  that  answering 
river.     Her   native   valleys   had   resounded   to  the 
white  man's  axe,  and  her  canes  and  flowers  were 
crushed  beneath  the- white  man's  foot.     Poor  child 
of  the  forest !     In  another  land — if  thy  fabled  Para- 
dise is  no  dream — perhaps  thou  still  wanderest  by 
the  semblance  of  that  beloved  and  gentle  river — 
happy  that  thou  dost  not  see  the  reality  ;  for  to  thee 
and  to  the  nymphs  of  that  stream  there  is  no  longer 
a  home  in   its  sun-burnt  and  rifled  valleys.     The 
genius  of  civilization  has  trodden  upon  thy  sacred 
haunts,  and  with  the  materials  of  thy  poetic  inspira- 
tion built  up  altars  to  insatiate  wealth — teaching  this 


THE   BRITISH   PARTIZAN.  11 

lesson  :  that  whilst  we  are  improving  on  the  natural 
or  physical  creation,  we  lose  in  beautiful  simplicity 
what  we  gain  in  art. 

But,  at  the  time  of  which  we  write,  the  "settle- 
ments" were  principally  remote  from  the  river.  A 
few  families  only  had  fixed  their  residences  on  its 
margin,  and  held  by  grant  all  those  rich  lands  which 
have  since  proved  of  such  invaluable  consequence. 
The  war  of  the  revolution  had  been  long  raging, 
but  the  thunder  of  its  cannon  had  only  been  heard 
in  this  remote  situation,  like  the  rumblings  of  a  far 
off  tempest;  and  though  some  of  the  most  gallant 
spirits  among  the  inhabitants  of  this  district  of 
country  had  gone  to  defend  the  Southern  frontier, 
the  many  remained  quietly  at  home,  expecting  that 
the  storm  would  have  spent  its  force  ere  it  reached 
them.  The  event  proved  that  these  theorists  were 
but  little  read  in  the  politics  of  their  own  society ; 
for  the  spirit  of  rude  rebellion  and  love  of  plunder, 
owing  to  the  divided  interests  and  jealousies  of  a 
people  so  lately  thrown  together,  without  law,  or 
attachment  to  bind  them,  had  prepared  Carolina  for 
those  scenes  of  fierce  contention  and  domestic  horror, 
.  which  stand  without  a  parallel  in  the  page  of  history. 

But  man,  in  the  pride  of  his  heart,  seldom  values 
the  "  evidence  of  things  unseen,  "  and  the  miseries 
of  the  war  which  was  deluging  the  Northern  colonies 
with  blood  had  not  as  vet  visited  the  senses  of  the 
Southrons.  It  was  owing  to  this  circumstance,  per- 
haps, that  the  hatred  of  the  British  was  at  this  time 
less  violent  here  than  elsewhere.     Their  aggressions 


12  THE   BRITISH   PARTIZAX, 

had  been  spared,  and  when  at  length  they  came 
with  flatteries  and  promises,  and  unfurled  the  blood- 
stained ,  banner  of  the  mother  county,  they  reaped 
their  full  reward  of  treachery  and  sedition. 

It  was  during  the  deceitful  calm  immediately  pre- 
ceding these  convulsions,  that  a  youth  was,  one  bright 
morning,  wending  his  way  up  the  eastern  bank  of 
t]je  river,  in  the  vicinity  of  the  scenery  which  we 
have  just  sketched.  He  was  passing  over  ground 
which  is  now  hallowed  and  memorable ;  for  every 
particle  of  it  is  peopled  with  the  invisible  shadows 
of  an  acted  romance.  But  the  recollection  of  these 
scenes  of  horrid  interest,  is  gradually  fading  away 
with  the  witnesses,  and  will  soon  exist  only  in  the 
whispered  traditions  of  their  grand-children  5  yet 
there  are  some  now  living,  who  will  recognize  in 
the  portrait  which  we  are  about  to  draw,  the  original 
of  one,  who,  by  deeds  of  wild  and  unequalled 
prowess,  incorporated  his  name  with  the  scenery  of 
his  native  district,  though  it  deserved  no  lasting 
record  on  the  historic  marble  of  his  country. 

The  muse  of  history  has  woven  her  chaplets  for 
the  valiant  and  noble — she  has  even  given  to  dishon- 
orable fame  the  names  of  some  of  those, 

"  Whose  treason,  like  a  deadly  blight, 
Came  o'er  the  counsels  of  the  brave;" 

but  how  many,  both  noble  and  ignoble,  have  gone 
down  "  unhonored  and  unsung,  "  their  memory  and 
deeds  alike  forgotten,  except  in  its  private  records  of 
affection  or  dislike ! 


THE   BRITISH   PARTIZAN.  13 

There  was  at  this  time,  however,  nothing  in  the 
appearance  of  that  youth,  which  could  warrant  the 
supposition  of  his  future  dark  and  wild  career.     His 
mien  was  gay  and  careless,  and  he  whistled  merrily, 
as  he  pushed  with  a  light  step,  bold  and  free,  through 
the  patches  of  cultivated  grounds  and  thickets  of 
matted  vines  and  canes,  which  in  these  degenerate 
days  would  be  deemed  impervious  to  anything  but 
an  Indian  warrior   or  a  rattlesnake.     There  was  a 
determination  in  his  step  which  bespoke  a  resolution 
that  had  never  been  "  sicklied  o'er  by  the  pale  cast  of 
thought."     It   seemed    rather    the    promptness   of 
eager  and  untamed  spirit,  acting  upon  a  mind  natu- 
rally haughty,  and  impatient   of  restraint.     There 
certainly  was  a  princely  superiority  in  his  manner, 
as  of  one   born    to   command,  which    would   have 
seemed  strange  in  a   rude  untutored  child  of  the 
American  forest,  but  that  nature  confines  not  her 
gifts  to  birth  or  station.     The  wild  flower  expands 
with  greater  luxuriance  than  that  which  is  pent  up 
if  the   gardens   «of    princes — and   the   tall,    almost 
gigantic  person  of  this  youth,  in  the  power  of  its 
fullness  and  strength,    and  *the  beauty  of  its  free, 
unrestrained  gracefulness,  might  have  shamed  the 
kingly  court  of  an  Alexander  amid  the  flower  of  its 
Athletce.     His   garments,    though  rude,  were   worn 
with   a   native   elegance   worthy  of  his  aristocratic 
bearing;    and  the  manner  in  which  a  pair  of  silver 
buckles  drew  his  small   clothes  tightly  round  the 
knees,   displayed  no  common   degree  of  vanity  min 
those  manly   and   graceful   proportions.     His  neck 


B* 


14  THE   BRITISH   PARTISAN. 

bore  further  evidence  of  mighty  strength — it  might 
have  become  a  gladiator — and  it  appeared  broad 
and  fair  where  the  daflv  brown  hair  curled  up  over 
the  edge  of  a  fur  cap  thrown  carelessly  on  one  side 
of  the  head.  The  tout  ensemble  of  the  youth  might 
have  been  considered  foppish,  if  his  features  had  not 
been  so  manly  in  expression,  so  classically  beautiful : 
the  broad  open  brow ;  the  eye,  full,  clear  and  hazel ; 
the  finely  curved  lip,  so  proudly  daring.  But  his 
eye,  though  hazel,  had  none  of  the  soft  character- 
istics of  that  color ;  it  was  fierce  and  sparkling,  and 
seemed  to  aid  the  expression  of  scorn  and  daring, 
which  mingled  so  strangely  with  the  good  humor 
that  the  power,  and  strength,  and  glory  of  early 
youth  had  settled  into  joyousness  on  his  lips ;  for 
despite  his  mighty  strength  and  stature,  he  was 
scarcely  eighteen.  His  cheek,  though  slightly  em- 
browned by  exposure  to  an  ardent  climate,  still 
retained  much  of  its  youthful  softness. 

It  was  early  summer,  and  the  brightness  and 
bloom  on  the  face  of  nature,  seemed  indeed  to  testif}^ 
how  much  "  this  was  fashioned  for  a  perfect  world  " 
From  the  thick  branches  of  the  lovely  syringa  and 
clustering  snow-drops,  and  from  the  leafy  arbors, 
suspended  like  castles  in  mid-air,  on  the  dark  majes- 
tic trees,  the  sweet  birds  were  sending  up  one  unani- 
mous exhalation  of  love.  The  white  flowers  were 
covered  with  bees  and  butterflies,  and  above  their 
buzzing  was  heard  the  monotonous  whirl  of  the 
tiny  humming  bird,  as  it  pierced  its  slender  bill  into 
the  rich  horn-like  flowers  of  the  trumpet  vine,  which 


THE   BRITISH  PARTIZAN.  15 

hung  in  festoons  from  the  highest  trees.  Occasion- 
all  y,  through  an  opening,  might  be  caught  a  glimpse 
of  the  river,  just  touched  by  the  morning  sunbeam ; 
and  in  its  stiTl  retreats,  the  silver  trout  would  ever 
and  anon  break  the  surface  of  the  water  into  rings 
of  circling  eddies.  It  was  indeed  a  scene  of  harmony 
and  peace,  and  it  spoke  to  the  heart  of  the  youth 
with  a  familiar  voice.  As  he  advanced,  with  the 
dews  and  flowers  falling  around  him,  he  appeared  to 
feel  an  accustomed  delight  in  the  freshness  of  that 
early  hour,  which  seemed  to  excite  in  him  a  S}^mpa- 
thy  for  the  vilest  thing  that  could  also  enjoy  it;  for 
when  the  lazy  moccasin  crept  slowly  from  beneath 
the  fallen  limbs  in  his  path,  or  the  wily  rattlesnake 
glided  off  amidst  the  damp  grass,  he  turned  smilingly 
away  and  harmed  them  not.  Sometimes  he  would 
surprise  a  humming  bird  in  its  flower-cup  for  the 
pleasure  of  restoring  it  to  liberty,  and  once  or  twice 
he  stopped  to  level  the  light  rifle,  which  he  carried 
in  his  hand,  at  a  bird  perched  upon  a  high  bough — 
the  bird  would  wing  its  flight  unharmed,  but  the 
bullet  had  grazed  the  spot  where  it  rested.  He  was 
too  happy  to  take  life  wantonly,  but  he  prided  him- 
self as  a  marksman.  And  true  it  is  that  there  was 
not  another  as  sure  of  eye  and  steady  of  aim  in  all 
that  country  ;  for,  like  Hudibrasl  in  logic,  with  his 
bullet  he  could 

"Divide 
A  hair  'twixt  south  and  south-west  side.  " 

He  walked  on  for  some  hours,  and  the  sun  was  high 
above  his  head,  when  emerging  from  a  thick  copse 


16  THE    BRITISH   PARTIZAN. 

of  wood  he  came  upon  a  smooth  green  plain,  and 
before  him  lay  the  little  village  of  Vienna — if  five 
or  six  houses,  rising  in  two  rows  from  the  river's 
bank,  might  be  so  called.  On  the  border  of  this 
plain,  where  it  slopes  gently  down  to  the  river,  stood 
a  little  vine-covered  cottage,  the  refuge  of  a  French 
•'migrant,  one  of  the  many  who  fled  from  intolerance 
in  their  own  country,  hoping  to  find  peace  and  the 
quiet  worship  of  God  in  the  shades  of  the  great  new 
world.  Vain  hope,  alas!  But  as  yet  the  emigrant 
had  been  undisturbed  in  his  humble  avocations,  and 
was  enabled  to  support,  by  the  steady -industry  of 
his  class,  himself  and  an  only  child.  This  child 
planted  his  choice  flowers,  sang  his  favorite  songs, 
and  enlivened  the  little  cottage  with  all  the  pretty 
playfulness  and  charming  gayety  of  the  peasant  girls 
of  *her  own  Ausonia.  She  could  not  have  been  hap- 
pier had  she  been  born  a  princess;  for  the  wants  of 
a  false  refinement  had  never  invaded  that  humble 
dwelling  with  the  longings,  the  discontents,  and  the 
jealousies  of  a  vain  ambition.  The  homage  of  one 
fond  heart  was  enough  for  the  simple  wishes  of 
Annette  Bruyesant. 

Thither  our  hero  now  directed  his  steps,  lie  had, 
from  earliest  boyhood,  marked  this  fair  flower  for 
his  own,  and  with  a  gallantry  which  seemed  to  keep 
pace  with  his  rapid  growth,  he  had  sought  her  love. 
No  hand  but  his  could  gather  her  fruits  and  flowers 
from -the  wildest  bough,  and  certainly  no  arm  so 
well  as  his  could  swing  the  light  canoe  with  such 
joyous  rapidity  along  their  native  stream.     But  the 


THE   BRITISH   PAKTIZAN.  17 

gay  devotions  of  the  boy  had  changed  into  the  com- 
paratively silent  entrancement  of  the  lover,  and 
many  and  many  were  the  days  that  under  the  pre- 
text of  hunting,  he  had  wandered  on  and  on,  until 
he  found  himself  seated  with  his  pretty  Annette,  by 
the  cottage  on  the  lawn. 

"Oh,  Ralph,  I'm  so  glad  you  have  come !  "  said 
the  young  girl,  running  forward  to  meet  him,  and 
then,  as  if  ashamed  of  her  eagerness,  she  stopped 
and  hid  her  face  in  her  hands. 

"Are  you  so?  "  exclaimed  he  in  the  low,  concen- 
trated tones  of  impassioned  love ;  and  in  the  next 
moment  he  stood  on  the  threshold,  had  caught  the 
blushing  girl  in  his  arms,  and  pressed  a  saucy  kiss 
upon  her  lips.  They  were  so  like  twin  cherries,  an 
anchorite  might  have  been  tempted  to  the  deed. 

"  Ralph  Cornet ! "  said  she  angrily ;  for  what 
young  lady  can  bear  to  be  kissed  before  witnesses  ? — 
it  is  so  much  like  assuming  power  over  her.  "Ralph 
Cornet,  who  gave  you  authority  to  take  such  liberj 
ties  with  me  ?     I  shan't  submit  to  it — I  won,'t !" 

"Who  gave  me  authority?"  repeated  Ralph,  mis- 
chievously*^ "  why,  yourself,  dearest,  when  you 
promised  on  that  beautiful  evening  to  be  Mrs.  Ralph 
Cornet.  Don't  you  remember,  as  we  sat  by  the  wil- 
lows on  the  river  ?  Oh,  I  have  been  so  happy  ever 
since!  And  say,  father,"  continued  he,  as  Annette 
turned  off  from  him,  "  did  you  not  give  her  to  me  ?  " 

"Mafoif"  answered  the  old  Frenchman,  in  a 
ludicrous  mixture  of  French  and  broken  English, 
"  she  would  be  sorri  vcri  moch  to  dispute  of  dat,  my 


18  THE   BRITISH   PARTIZAN. 

son — ha!  ha!  ha!  mais  c'est  egal ;  ncvare  mind, 
Ralph — de  y  on  g  demoiselles  know  alway,  quand  elks 
sont  jolies.     JS^est-ce  ^>as,  Annie!" 

Annette  pouted  her  pretty  lips,  and  plaeed  herself 
with  her  back  to  the  company,  affecting  to  resume 
her  work,  but  really  with  the  intention  of  hiding 
the  smile  which  she  could  not  suppress.  Ralph 
Cornet  pursued  her  averted  face  with  a  smile  which 
was  wickedly  fraught  with  the  consciousness  of  power. 

"  Nay,  now,  Annie,  don't  be  so  prudish,"  said  he, 
coaxingly.  "  I  beg  your  pardon  for  it.  But  didn't 
you  say  you  were  glad  to  see  me  ?  " 

"  Well,  Ralph,  "  she  replied,  looking  up  gracefully 
in  his  face,  "  true  enough ;  but  you  did  not  wait  to 
hear  all.  The  fact  is,  the  village  is  full  of  strangers, 
and  it  was  only  last  night  that  one  of  them  came  here 
dressed  so  fine  and  talked  a  great  deal  of  nonsense 

to  me,  such  as  I  don't  choose  to  repeat,  Ralph 

Oh,  it  all  amounts  to  nothing,  "  said  she,  hastity,  as 
she  saw  the  rising  choler  of  her  lover,  "but  I 
thought  I  should  feel  better  if  you  were  here.  " 

"He  shall  pay  for  it!"  muttered  Ralph  between 
his  clenched  teeth. 

i'  How,  Ralph  ?  "  exclaimed  the  girl  with  an  in- 
credulous laugh,  "you  wouldn't  challenge  a  British 
officer ! " 

■"  Ha !  "  almost  shouted  Ralph,  starting  from  his 
chair,  "British! — did  you  say  British'?  " 

"  Oui,  "  replied  the  old  man,  "Jest  lien  vrais — dey 
come  here  wid  de  compaigne  of  light  horse^ — dey 
look  so  fine — mais!  dey  scare  de  poor  peoples  half 


THE   BRITISH  PARTIZAN.  19 

out  of  all  clere  sens.  Dey  drink  tout  le  vin — dey 
talk  beaucoup — dcy  sing.  0  mon  Dieu  !  Que  des 
British  sont  mediants  !  " 

Kalph  Cornet  sat  for  some  time  in  deep  thought. 
u  Ah,  if  I  had  but  fifty  men !"  said  he,  as  if  thinking 
aloud. 

"  Eh!  quoi?  Vat  you  shall  say,  Kalph?"  asked 
the  old  man. 

"  Oh,  nothing,  "  replied  he,  "  only  I  was  thinking 
what  fine  sport  it  would  be  to  drive  these  rascals 
from  the  country. " 

u  Oui,  oui,  "  said  the  old  man,  impatiently,  "  if  it 
could  be  done.  But  dey  come  here  temps  en  temps — 
dey  grow  strong,  veri  strong.  " 

Kalph  Cornet  rose  and  walked  the  floor,  and  at 
that  moment  a  party  of  four  or  five  men  were  seen 
approaching  the  house.  "They  wore  the  British  uni- 
form, and  their  swords  and  epaulets,  as  they  glistened 
in  the  sun,  filled  the  fancy  of  the  old  man  with 
images  of  horror. 

u  0  mon  Dieu!   mon  Dieu!"  he  exclaimed,  with 
-clasped  hands,   "  nous  sommes  perdu — helas!     I  come 
here  to  find  de  peace,  an'  I  shall  find  de  trouble. 
Mais  je  sais  mourir.     Fuyer  !  my  son,  fuyer  !  " 

"Be  quiet,  father,"  said  Kalph,  who,  with  his 
rifle  in  hand,  stood  in  the  door,  a  very  imposing  pic- 
ture of  resolute  defiance. 

The  party  halted  within  reach  of  Ralph's  rifle. 
"  Hallo !    there,    young    man ! "    exclaimed    the 
leader  ;  "  in  the  King's  name,  what  do  you  mean  ? 
You  will  not  shoot  at  friends,  I  hope  ?  " 


20  THE   BRITISH   PARTIZAK. 

Ralph  dropped  the  end  of  his  rifle  to  the  ground, 
and  the  officer  advancing  entered  the  house.  Seat- 
ing himself  without  ceremony,  he  cast  a  hasty  glance 
round  the  apartment,  and  a  shade  of  disappointment 
seemed  to  pass  over  his  pleasant  features;  but  it  was 
succeeded  by  an  expression  of  curiosity  and  surprise 
as  his  eye  fixed  upon  the  fine,  manly  form  of  Ralph 
Cornet,  who  stood  yet  leaning  on  his  small  silver- 
mounted  rifle,  regarding  the  scene  with  an  eager  and 
dangerous  excitement.  There  was  something  noble 
and  pleasing  in  the  aspect  of  the  British  officer,  and 
to  Ralph's  unpractised  eye  there  could  be  nothing 
more  seducing  than  the  grace  with  which  the  glitter- 
ing sword  and  epaulets  sat  upon  his  elegant  form. 
The  penetrating  officer  observed  this  effect  on  the 
artless  countenance  of  the  young  man,  and  turning 
to  the  old  Frenchman,  who  sat  in  sullen  submission, 
with  his  hands  folded  before  him,,  he  said : 

"  Well,  old  man,  is  this  your  son  ?  Faith,  he's  a 
fine  fellow;  and  I'll  be  sworn  he  has  spirit  enough, 
too.  " 

"  Aye,  aye,  and  true  enoff, "  cried  the  old  man, 
drily.     "Mais,  he  not  be  my  son,  for  all  dat. " 

"Ah!"  replied  the  officer,  pleasantly,  "a  lover, 
then,  for  your  pretty  daughter,  I  suppose.  I'll  wager 
my  chapeau  that  she  does  not  run  from  him  !  But, " 
continued  he,  seeing  the  frown  that  was  gathering 
on  Ralph's  countenance,  "I  beg  your  pardon,  young 
man  •  we  all  have  our  weaknesses,  and  I  confess  that 
a  pair  of  the  finest  black  eyes  that  I  have  ever  seen, 
drew  me  here  this  morning.     Mais  nHmporte,  as  our' 


THE   BRITISH   PARTIZAN".  21 

old  Frenchman  here  would  sa}^ ;  we  all  have  our 
crosses  in  love  as  in  war;  and,  besides,  this  is  no 
time  to  play  with  mammets,  or  to  tilt  with  lips ! 
However,  I  suppose  you  never  read  Shakspeare?  " 

"  I  am  not  much  accustomed  to  reading,  "  said 
Ralph,  surprised  out  of  his  proud  reserve,  by  the 
frank  and  courteous  bearing  of  the  young  officer, 
"  but  when  it  comes  to  riding,  running,  wrestling,  or 
fighting,  there  is  not  the  man  in  this  country  whom 
Ralph  Cornet  fears  to  face,  hand  to  hand. " 

"Ah  !  "  I  knew  you  were  a  brave,  fellow.  What 
a  shame  it  is  that  you  should  sit  here  idle,  when  there 
is  so  much  fine  work  doing  in  the  country.  You 
should  wear  a  sword  and  plume  now,  and  command 
a  fine  body  of  troopers.  How  devilish  handsome 
you  would  look  in  regimentals !  " 

Ralph's  eye  sparkled  as  it  caught  the  gaze  of  the 
stranger — 

"I  should  like  it  of  all  things,  "  said  he,  "if  I 
came  by  it  honestly.     But  " 

"  You  shall  have  it,  by  Jove !  "  interrupted  the 
officer,  eagerly ;  "  you  shall  have  it !  With  a  few 
more  such  as  you,  we  shall  frighten  the  silly  rebels 
to  obedience,  I  hope,  for  I  hate  bloodshed.  " 

"  Grand  Dieu  !  "  exclaimed  the  old  man,  quoting  a 
passage  from  scripture  in  his  original  tongue, 
"  Ralph,  tires  tes  pieds  des  pieds  des  mediants  !  n 

Ralph  had  been  conversant  with  the  language  from 

infancy,  owing  to  its  prevalence  among  the  French 

settlers  in  this  district,  who  clung  with  fondness  to 

this  last  relic  of  their  native  country.     The  officer, 

c 


22  THE   BRITISH   PARTIZAN. 

turning  to  the  speaker,  replied  in  an  elevated  voice : 
"Old  man,  I  am  spreading  no  snares  for  my 
young  friend  here.  A  little  reflection  will  show  you 
that  it  is  the  best  thing  he  can  do  for  his  country. 
What  is  the  use  of  resistance  ?  Our  arms  are  victo- 
rious everywhere.  Savannah  is  ours — Augusta  is 
ours — and  Charleston,  your  capital,  will  shortly  be 
in  our  hands.  The  sooner  we  put  down  the  few 
rebels  left,  the  sooner  will  peace  be  restored  to  the 
country,  and  much  misery  spared.  " 

The  old  man  shook  his  head,  and  groaned  audibly. 
But  the  officer  had  spoken  with  enthusiasm  ;  perhaps 
he  had  deceived  himself  into  the  belief  of  his  own 
sophisms,  or  thought  that  the  dignity  of  his  cause 
justified  the  means  which  he  employed  in  its  service; 
perhaps  he  knew  that  he  was  deceiving.  But  alas 
for  poor  KalphI  His  youthful  reason,  which  had 
never  been  taught  to  raise  its  eagle  eyes  to  the  sun 
of  truth,  was  blinded  by  the  splendid  illusions  con- 
jured up  by  this  master  spirit,  and  his  ardent  imagi- 
nation had  already  caught  something  of  the  ambition 
which  burned  in  the  eyes  of  the  English  officer. 
They  were  both  so.  young,  and  congenially  proud 
and  fierce.  But  Kalph  Cornet  thought  of  his  aged 
father  whom  it  was  his  duty  to  protect — of  his 
brother,  absent  in  the  American  army,  of  Annette  ! 
That  thought  was  last  and  dearest,  and  he  turned 
coldly  away  from  the  fascinating  gaze  of  the  stranger. 
The  British  officer  was  not  a  man  to  be  easily 
.turned  from  his  purpose.  Though  young,  his  well 
educated  and  disciplined  mind   had  an  order   and 


THE   BRITISH   PARTTZAN.  23 

design  to  which  he  trusted  for   swaying  the  fierce 
natural  temperament  of  this  unsophisticated  youth ; 
for  he  knew  that  even  the  lion  may  be  tamed  by  the 
power  of  the  mind.     He   rose  from  his   seat,    and 
laying  one  hand  familiarly  on  the  shoulder  of  the. 
young  American,  with  the  other  he  took  the  rifle  and  i 
examined  ft  with  the  eye  of  a  connoisseur. 

"By  heavens,  it  is  a  fine  weapon,  "  said  he;  "I, 
did  not  expect  to  see  anything  like  it  in  this  new  r 
world.  It  reminds  me  of  such  treasures  as  I  have  : 
seen  in  the  armory  of  England.  " 

"It  has  slain  many  a  deer  in  your  parks, "  said': 
Ralph,  smiling.     "My  father  is  an  Englishman,  and 
did  not  come  to  this  country  without  transporting ; 
some  such  treasures  as  you  speak  of.  " 

There  was  a  slight  show  of  boasting  in  this  speech, . 
which  gave  the  officer  a  new  key  to  the  heart  of 
Ralph.     He  smiled,  and  said  complacently  : 

"  Well,  we  must  be  better  friends.  But  tell  me  \ 
what  is  the  most  you  can  do  with  this  beautiful  little  ; 
thunderer. "' 

"Do?  "  said  Ralph,  archly,  "I  expect  you  would 
scarcely  like  to  stand  the  trial  of  all  I  can  do  with 
it. " 

"  Oh,    I'm   a   fine   shot  myself, "    answered    the i 
other.     "I  should   like  to   try   a    mark   with  you.. 
Pray,  how  often  can  you  strike  the  centre  of  a  target, 
at  a  fair  distance?  " 

"  I  can  come  twenty  times  within  the  eye,  without 
missing, "  said  Ralph. 


24  THE   BRITISH   PARTIZAN. 

"Gad!  then  you  can  bring  down  a  bird  on  the 
wing?  " 

"  Yes,  or  drive  the  feather  from  the  top  of  a  pole 
fifty  feet  high. " 

"Fore  Heaven!  you  are  the  very  man  for  me. 
Come,  I  shall  stay  here  a  few  days,  and  we  mast 
make  a  trial  of  our  skill.  If  you  do  not  go  with  me 
now,  I  shall  say  that  you  cannot  make  good  your 
boast. " 

What  entreaties  or  commands  could  not  have  done, 
this  threat  effected ;  for  honor,  with  limited  and 
ungoverned  minds,  is  ever  inconsistent.  It  halts  at 
small  matters  and  oversteps  the  greater.  Thus 
Ralph  Cornet  to  preserve  his  character  as  a  marks- 
man, betrayed  himself  into  the  hands  of  the  British, 
even  as  the  bird  goes  blindly  into  the  share  that  is 
set  for  it.  Ralph  knew  not  that  he  was  going  to  his 
ruin,  for  with  a  cheerful  smile  he  promised  the  old 
man  that  he  would  return  that  evening.  In  the  easy 
familiarity  of  the.  stranger,  he  had  forgotten  that 
they  were  foes,  and  when  he  had  joined  his  society, 
the  gay  life  which  the  British  affected  to  lead,  added 
to  the  flattering  promises  of  the  officer,  completely 
ensnared  his  youthful  imagination,  and  he  forgot  his 
promise  of  returning  to  the  cottage.  If  he  had  felt 
any  regrets,  the  pleasant  and  accomplished  Colonel 
Ferguson  was  just  the  man  to  dissipate  them.  He 
treated  him  as  a  friend ;  for  there  was  in  the  frank 
bearing  and  undoubted  bravery  of  Ralph,  a  dignity 
he  was  obliged  to  respect— but  he  left  him  no  time 
for  thought.     For  many  days  the  British  were  seen 


THE   BRITISH  PARTIZAN.  25 

riding  through  the  neighborhood  in  light  parties, 
and  ever  was  Ralph  Cornet  mounted  on  a  beautiful 
black  horse,  his  own  matchless  Rover,  by  the  side  of 
the  English  Colonel,  who  entertained  him  with  the 

^'  Pomp  and  circumstance  of  glorious  war,  " 

without  any  of  its  concomitant  evils.  Perhaps  being 
young  and  enthusiastic,  he  knew  them  not  himself. 

One  day  the  British  disappeared  altogether,  and 
Ralph  Cornet  was  absent  for  the  first,  time  from  his 
native  woods. 


C* 


CHAPTER  II. 

"  Oh,  she  had  yet  the  task  to  learn 
How  often  woman's  heart  must  turn 
To  feed  upon  its  own  excess 
Of  deep,  yet  passionate  tenderness  ; 
How  much  of  grief  the  heart  must  prove, 
That  yields  a  sanctuary  to  love."  L.  E.  L. 

M  Oh,  namlet,  what  a  falling  off  was  there  1 " 

Shakspearb. 

Poor  Annette,  the  tender  and  feeling  girl,  wept 
the  loss  of  her  lover  with  the  greatest  bitterness, 
because,  for  the  firSt  time  in  his  life,  he  had  deceived 
her.  Ah,  those  only  who  have  permitted  the  stream 
of  their  affections  to  wear  for  itself  a  deep  and  pow- 
erful channel,  can  tell  with  what  a  sickening  con- 
vulsion its  whole  weight  is  thrown  back  upon  the 
heart,  and  how  worn  and  dreary  seems  the  course 
which  it  has  hitherto  pursued  I  In  that  first  moment 
of  exquisite  anguish,  a  lifetime  is  compressed.  The 
earth  has  nothing  left  to  compensate  for  the  trusting 
fondness  of  the  heart's  early  innocence,  or  to  return 
its  withered  pulses  to  their  freshness  again.  The 
spring  may  bloom  in  vain,  and  the  summer's  sweets 
be  felt  not ;  for  the  soul  can  cast  its  own  dark;  shadows 
over  the  fairest  sky. 

Thus  thought  and  felt  Annette,  as  she  sat  one 
evening  on  the  green  lawn  before  the  cottage  door. 
The  light,  yellow  leaves  of  the  beech  trees  were  fall- 


THE    BRITISH   PARTIZAN.  27 

ing  softly   around   her,  as   the  breeze  of  Autumn 

whispered  through  them 

•I 
"  In  cadence  low,  a  melancholy  sound.  *' 

The  river  rolled  within  ten  steps  of  her  feet,  washing 
the  edge  of  the  grassy  slope  on  which  she  sat,'  and 
beautifully  reflecting  the  rich  masses  of  purple  clouds 
which  the  evening  sun  had  skirted  with  gold,  as  it 
shed  through  their  irregular  openings  a  soft  luxurious 
light. 

But  the  scene  had  never  been  so  painful  to  An- 
nette ;  for  all  the  fond  recollections  of  her  whole  life, 
from  its  glad  infancy,  were  connected  with  it.  And 
now,  as  the  stream  of  memory  flowed  back  upon  her 
soul,  its  waters  were-  bitter  as  the  fabled  Achem. 
Her  lips  were  compressed  with  an  effort  of  grief,  and 
her  eyes  fixed  in  abstraction  on  the  western  bank  of 
the  river,  which  presented  one  dazzling  array  of  gem- 
like hues;  for  the  slight  frosts  of  Autumn  had  just 
tinted  the  maple  and  birch  with  the  ruby  and  topaz, 
whilst  the  emerald  oaks  and  evergreens — the  latter 
now  and  then  laden  with  scarlet  berries — and  the 
purple  wild  grape,  dipped  their  nodding  plumes  into 
the  clear  lake-like  stillness  of  the  water.  But  An- 
nette's thoughts  were  far  away,  in  search  of  him  who 
had  made  the  soul  of  this  scene  for  her,  and  who,  by 
his  defection,  had  spread  a  pall  over  its  beauties.  So 
truthfully  has  a  sweet  poetess  felt,  when  she  said 

"It  is  our  feelings  give  the  tone 
To  whatsoever  we  gaze  upon.  " 

Yet  Annette  wept  not  so.  much  the  absence  of  her 


28  THE  BRITISH   PAKTIZAN. 

lover  as  what  she  imagined  to  be  his  honor's  apos- 
tacy.  The  soft  exterior  of  the  French  girl  covered 
a  heart  high  and  proud,  which  Ralph  Cornet  had  in 
some  measure  formed  in  his  own  likeness — so  natu- 
rally do  proud  hearts  assimilate — but  being  more 
dispassionate,  and  with  less  ambition,  she  had  clearer 
views  of  honor  than  he ;  and  in  the  uncertainty  and 
mystery  in  which  he  had  left  her,  she  trembled  with 
horror  at  the  thought — than  which  there  can  be  none 
more  deeply  fraught  with  bitterness — of  finding  the 
object  of  her  supreme  affection  unworthy  of  that 
love.  The  voice  of  fame  was  already  busy  with  the 
name  of  Ralph  "Cornet.  Several  times  had  armed 
men  been  to  the  cottage  in  search  of  him,  and  curses, 
mingled  with  the  word  traitor,  sometimes  came  to  the 
ear  of  Annette.  But  she  scorned  the  accusation 
with  indignant  unbelief;  for  the  fond  girl  deemed 
not  that  the  mind  which  she  had  ever  looked  up  to 
as  a  master  spirit,  could  be  so  warped  from  its  native 
nobleness.  Time  wore  on,  and  doubts,  fearful 
doubts,  forced  themselves  upon  her  mind..  Why 
should  he  absent  himself  from  her?  and  that,  too,  at 
a  time  of  such  danger ;  for  the  tories  had  began  their 
nefarious  works  of  pillage  and  oppression.  Why 
deprive  her  so  suddenly  of  his  confidence? 

As  Annette  sat  gazing  thus  on  the  opposite  bank 
of  the  river,  entangling  herself  more  and  more  in  a 
maze  of  wildering  and  troubled  thoughts,  her  atten- 
tion was  arrested  by  something  moving  among  the 
bushes,  and  she  thought  she  perceived  the  figure  of 
a  man  swinging  from  a  bough  over  a  little  narrow 


THE   BRITISH   PARTIZAN".  29 

inlet  where  the  high  bank  opened  like  the  jaws  of  a 
crocodile.  Presently  the  water  seemed  to  be  shaken 
in  that  still  retreat,  and  a  canoe  emerged  thence  and 
shot  rapidly' across  the  stream,  the  feathery  bark 
seeming  scarcely  to  require  an  effort  of  the  vigorous 
arm  that  impelled  it.  The  figure  which  appeared 
was  dressed  in  the  British  uniform,  and  a  tall  plume 
added  to  the  giant  reflection  of  his  person,  which  the 
lengthened  shades  of  evening  threw  on  the  broad 
mirror  of  the  river.  His  coat,  which  was  more  than 
usually  ornamented  with  gold  lace  and  buttons,  was 
turned  off  at  the  sleeves  and  collar  with  crimson  vel- 
vet, "and  a  sash  of  the  same,  very  finely  embroidered, 
girded  a  sword  to  a  waist  of  strong  but  graceful  de- 
lineations. 

Annette  rose  and  leaned  eagerly  forward.  The 
hat,  with  its  nodding  feather,  was  drawn  far  over  his 
brow,  so  as  nearly  to  conceal  his  face.  But  could 
she  be  mistaken  in  that  form  ?     It  was  he  ! 

The  heart  of  the  poor  girl  throbbed  with  contend- 
ing emotions :  love,  joy,  fear,  contended  there  with 
a  violence  that  was  too  much  for  its  strength,  and 
sinking  powerless,  into,  her  seat,  she  covered  her  face 
with  her  hands,  and  wept  as  if  that  heart  was  break- 
ing. In  the  meantime  Ralph  Cornet  had  sprung  to 
the  bank  and  knelt  beside  her. 

"Annie,  my  love! — my  Own  Annie!  What, 
what  is  the  matter  ?  "  he  asked  in  tones  of  the  deepest 
concern. 

But  Annie  wept  more  bitterly  than  before. 

"Gracious  Heavens!"    exclaimed   he,    in    alarm. 


30  THE   BRITISH   PARTIZAX. 

"has  anything  really  happened,  Annette?     Is  your 
father  ill  ? — or  has  any  one " 

"No,  no,  no,"  interrupted  the  weeping  girl. 
"But  you,  Ralph — how  can  you  ask  that  question ? 
Were  you  not  my  all? — and  have  you  not  ruined 
yourself  and  me  ?  " 

"My  own  darling,  precious  Annie  I "  said  the 
youth,  as  he  placed  his  arm  around  her  waist,  and 
drew  her  near  him.  "  How  can  you  say  so  ?  Do  I 
not  love  you  as  much,  yea,  a  thousand  times  more 
than  I  ever  did !  What  can  distress  you  so  ?  " 
•  Annette's  cheek  flushed  high  with  unwonted 
energy,  as  she  sprung  from  his  embrace,  and  standing 
a  few  paces  from  him,  -she  pointed  to  the  plumed 
hat  which  lay  on  the  grass  with  the  last  ray  of  the 
evening  sun  sparkling  in  its  jeweled  clasp — 

"  Ralph  Cornet,  what  does  that  mean?  "  she  asked 
in  a  firm  tone. 

"Mean,  Annette?"  replied  Ralph,  a  little  con- 
fusedly, "  why,  simply  that — that  I  am  a  British 
officer ! " 

For  the  first  time  in  his  life  his  eyes  sank  beneath 
the  bright  glance  of  hers. 

"Then  what  they  say  of  you  is  true.  You  aided 
Ferguson  in  raising  the  tories  in  this  neighborhood. 
You  have  accepted  a  commission  under  him,  and  you 
are  " — she  continued  with  rapid  energy,  whilst  her 
whole  frame  quivered  with  emotion — "you  are  a 
traitor  to  your  country  !  " 

"  There  lives  not  the  man  who  dare  say  that  to 
me ! "  replied  Ralph,  proudly.     "  They  who  tell  you 


THE   BRITISH  PARTIZA]*.  31 

« 

these  things,  Annette,  are  no  less  traitors  to  their 
country  than  I ;  they  have  destroj^ed  its  peace  and 
happiness  by  spreading  rebellion  over  it;  and  if  I 
have  accepted  a  commission  in  the  king's  army,  it  is 
with  the  hope  of  restoring  its  tranquility. " 

"  Oh,  Kalph  !  "  she  exclaimed  with  clasped  hands, 
"how  could  your  noble  mind  be  blinded  with  these 
falsehoods  ?  You,  who  have  been  taught  to  love  the 
very  air  of  liberty ;  you,  who  have  a  brother  now 
fighting  for  the  cause  of  freedom !  " 

"Freedom!"  said  Ralph,  "and  are  we  not  all 
fighting  for  the  cause  of  freedom?  But  what  think 
you,  my  little  politician,  is  the  freest  state,  the  rule  of 
one  good  master,  or  the  lordship  of  a  dozen  petty 
tyrants  ? — for  most  like  if  we  throw  off  the  yoke  of 
the  kin  or  such  will  be  the  case.  " 

Annette  was  not  prepared  to  answer  this  equivo- 
cal argument.  All  her  senses  were  bound  up  in  "the 
one  anguishing  thought  of  Ralph's  degradation. 
She  continued,  without  seeminsr  to  hear  him — 

"  And  then  to  be  classed  with  the  vile  creatures 
who  go  about  stealing  and  mufclering.  Oh,  God  !  to 
be  a  lory  !  " 

"By  Heaven!"  he  exclaimed,  with  a  furious 
gesture,  "  if  I  knew  who  had  told  you  this !— - — 
Annette,  I  am  not  one  of  the  vile  things  you  mention. 
No,  thank  Heaven  and  my  grandfather,  I  am  rich 
enough  of  myself.  I  ask  favors  of  no  man.  But  if 
I  was  as  poor  and  miserable  as  most  of  thoee  abom- 
inable wretches,  J  should  no  less  abhor  their  hellish 
spirit  of  gain.      We   fight  for   principle,    but  they 


82  THE   BRITISH   PARTIZAX. 

have  no  motive  save  to  enrieb  themselves  by  plun- 
dering.    Do  you  not  see  the  difference,  Annette?  " 

"  But  you  join  them,  Ralph  ;  you  excite  them — " 

"  Our  design,  "  interrupted  Ralph,  quickly,  "  is  to 
engage  them  in  a  fair  field,  so  as  to  prevent  their 
midnight  pillage  and  murders." 

A  silence  of  some  minutes  ensued,  only  interrupt- 
ed by  the  sobs  of  Annette.  In  that  time  Ralph 
Cornet's  countenance  had  changed  from  its  first'  ex- 
pression of  joy  and  triumph  to  one  of  sadness  and 
perplexity — just  as  some  fair  landscape  is  shaded 
suddenly  by  a  morning  cloud.  He  knew  not  what 
to  do  with  this  strange  and  unyielding  humor  of 
Annette ;  but  seating  himself  at  her  feet,  he  took 
her  hand  and  endeavored  to  draw  her  thoughts  from 
that  painful  subject  back  to  the  peaceful  scenes  of 
their  happy  and  united  childhood.  It  had  a  magical 
effect.  Her  hand  remained  passive  within  his  own, 
and  her  e}'es  were  raised  with  a  sort  of  half  smile  to 
his  face.  They  dwelt  there  fondly  for  a  moment.  She 
had  never  seen  him  so  handsome  or  so  interesting  as 
uow,  when  he  sat  there  in  that  brilliant  uniform,  un- 
folding a  chain  of  bright  remembrances,  every  link  of 
which  was  riveted  in  her  memory  by  thoughts  of 
him.  Encouraged  by  that  smile,  Ralph  Cornet  pro- 
ceeded, but  no  sooner  did  he  begin  to  talk  of  the 
future,  than  she  withdrew  her  hand,  and  turning 
away  her  head,  she  said,  in  a  voice  so  low  as  scarcely 
to  be  audible : 

"Ralph  Cornet,  you  must  talk  to- me  no  more  of 
love. " 


THE   BRITISH    PARTIZAN.  33 

"  Not  talk  to  you  of  love,  dearest?  "  said  he,  pas- 
sionately, "  when  this  tongue  refuses  its  office,  then 
shall  I  cease  to  talk  to  you  of  love.  But  surely, 
now,  you  jest,  Annette ;  you  did  not  mean  to  be  so 
cruel  ?  " 

11 1  leave  Heaven  to  decide  which  of  us  has  been 
the  most  cruel,  "  replied  Annette,  sadty.  "  I  loved 
you,  Ralph  Cornet.  I  cannot  hate  you  now,  though 
I  confess  you  have  lowered  yourself  in  my  esteem. 
But  you  have  placed  a  barrier  between  us.  You 
will  be  despised  and  sought  for  by  your  countrymen. 
Even  now,  your  stay  here  is  dangerous,  if  they  should 
discover  you,"  Annette  looked  cound  fearfully. 
"And  my  father,"  she  continued,  with  a  quivering 
lip,  "who  loved  you  so  well  before — he  has  forbid 
me  to  mention  your  name  in  his  presence." 

"  Ha  I  "  is  it  come  to  that,  already  ?  "  cried  Ralph, 
starting  to  his  feet  w'th  an  angry  gesture.  But. 
turning  immediately  to  Annette,  he  said  in  a  tone  of 
persuasive  tenderness,  "But  you,  Annette,  will  not 
change,  though  all  the  world  forsake  me?  I  know 
you  will  not.  You  will  fly  with  me  out  of  the  reach 
of  that  cruelty  which  distresses  you  so  much  ?  " 

"  Never,  Ralph — never  will  I  forsake  my  father 
while  he  lives.  Besides,  to  follow  you,  would  be 
worse  than  rash ;  for  disguise  it  as  you  will,  you 
have  but  an  outlaw's  life  to  offer  me, " 

"  No  1  no!  Annette.     I  have  plenty  of  resources; 
and  if  these  should  fail  me,  my  right  arm  will  not. 
I  fear  no  danger,     Go  with  me,  my  love,  and  then 
let  them  come,  one  and  all.  " 
D 


34  THE    BRITISH    PARTIZAtf. 

<:  Talk  no  more  of  it,  Ralph  Cornet.  It  cannot 
be,"  interrupted  Annette,  in  a  voice  so  calm  and 
passionlt-ss,  that  it  chilled  even  the  eager  enthusiasm 
of  the  ardent  lover  ;  and  he  felt  that  no  word  of  his, 
however  warmly  breathed,  could  prevail  against  the 
Bober  convictions  of  her  judgment. 

But,  as  if  she  had  spoken  the  sentence  which  was 
to  separate  them  forever,  Annette  commenced  weep- 
ing afresh  at  the  lonely  and  loveless  future  which 
presented  itself  to  her  view,  and  by  an  irresistible 
and  impulsive  weakness,  her  head  drooped  upon  his 
bosom.  What  a  situation  for  Kalph  Cornet !  The 
night  was  fast  approaching,  and  he  had  promised  to 
set  his  company,  which  lay  on  the  other  bank  of  the 
river,  in  motion  by  dark.  But  how  could  he  tear 
himself  from  Annette?  He  knew  that  the  faithful 
girl  had  not  aggravated  the  dangers  which  surrounded 
him.  He  knew  that  every  moment  of  his  stay  was 
perilous.  He  knew  that  he  could  not  prevail  on  her 
to  go  with  him  ;  indeed,  he  scarcely-  wished  that  he 
might  do  so ;  for  brave  as  he  was,  he  trembled  at 
the  hazards  to  which  she  might  be  exposed  in  a  rude 
and  reckless  camp.  But  it  is  true,  though  it  is 
strange,  that  love  can  beguile  the  heart  of  man  of  its 
heaviest  affliction !  Even  in  that  moment  he  was 
happy,  most  exquisitely  happy.  His  arm  was 
wound  around  her  waist,  and  his  lips  were  bent  to 
hers  in  one  long,  long  kiss  of  love. 

But  alas! 

"  How  fleeting  few  are  pleasure's  moments  I 
The  brightest  still  the  fleetest  "— 


THE   BRITISH    PARTIZAN.  35 

That  moment  of  entrancement  was  interrupted  by 
the  noise  as  of  a  struggle  in  the  house  behind  them, 
and  the  next  instant  the  report  of  a  pistol  was  heard. 

11  My  father  !  oh,  my  father!  "  screamed  Annette. 

Ralph  Cornet  stayed  to  hear  no  more.     He  sprang 
to  the  door,  and  bursting  it  open,  stood  with  drawn 
sword  fronting  a  scene  which  was  but  too  common  in, 
those  days.     The  dim  twilight  discovered  old  BruyeV 
sant  stretched  on   the  floor  and  a  ruffian  standing;; 
with  one  foot  on   his  breast,  apparently  deliberating/ 
whether  or  not  he  should  dash  out  his  brains  with  the 
butt  end  of  a  pistol   which   he  held  over  him.     The 
next  moment  the  uplifted  arm  fell  powerless  by  hi* 
side,  and  the  wretch  fled  with  a  howl  through  the. 
opposite  door,   where   his  two   companions   sat  on: 
their  horses  awaiting  him. 

This  was  one  of  the  slightest  effects  which   the- 
false  doctrines  of  Colonel  Ferguson  had  produced  in 
that  neighborhood.     The  country  was  in  a  crude  and ; 
uninformed   state,    ripe   for   sedition  and  outlawry. 
Perhaps  no  where  could  have  been  found  a  greater 
number  of  desperadoes  than  the  extreme  western 
part  of  this  district,  aided  by  the  Georgia  side  of  the 
river,  afforded;  men  who  eagerly  accepted  the  favor" 
of  the  British  as  an  excuse  for  indulging  their  lawless 
propensities.     The  few  Whigs  that  had  been  left  in- 
die   neighborhood    were    unable  either    to    awe   or 
subdue  them,  because,   like  prowling  wolves,  thev 
only  left  their  hiding  places  in  small  parties  and  at 
the  dead  hour  of  night,  incited  by  the  love  of  plun- 
der, revenge,  or  wanton  cruelty.     Though  the  cottage 


36  THE   BRITISH    PARTIZAN. 

of  old  Bruyesant  could  offer  but  little  to  tempt  their 
cupidity,  lie  was  no  less  persecuted  by  them  as  being 
an  honest  man,  and  an  avowed  Republican  ;  for, 
notwithstanding  his  unprotected  situation,  the  old 
man  had  expressed  himself  very  boldly  on  the  true 
side,  a  species  of  conduct  which  never  failed  to  meet 
the  prompt  vengeance  of  the  tories.  BesideB,  Mr. 
Bruyesant  had  once  very  harshly  refused  his  daughter 
to  one  of  their  number,  and  Ralph  Cornet,  though 
he  knew  it  not,  saved  his  Annette  from  a  worse  fate 
than  she  had  ever  yet  anticipated. 

That  night  Ralph  reaped  bitterly  the  first  fruits  of 
the  cause  he  had  espoused.  When  he  raised  the 
insensible  form  of  the  old  man  to  place  him  on  a 
bed,  his  hand  was  dabbled  with  blood,  and  on  pro- 
curing a  light,  he  found  that  the  bullet  which  had 
entered  the  arm  had  fractured  the  bone.  Annette, 
with  her  hands  clasped,  in  speechless  horror,  knelt 
by  the  bed-side,  watching  for  the  first  glimpse  of 
returning  life;  but  when  it  did  return,  it  was  with 
the  frenzy  of  madness.  All  night  long  the  sufferer 
was  in  a  raging  delirium,  occasione.l  by  the  fever 
and  anguish  of  his  wound,  and  the  spectre  which 
seemed  to  haunt  his  distorted  fancy  was  Ralph 
Cornet.  Sometimes  he  called  him  by  even  endear- 
ing name,  and  would  seem  to  be  warning  him  from 
the  brink  of  some  dreadful  precipice  ;  then  his  voice 
wrould  sink  into  low  and  muttered  curses,  and  he 
reviled  him  with  the  epithete  of  villain,  traitor,  mur- 
derer, and  called  upon  Annette  to  swear  that  she 
would  never  marry  him.     It  was  evident  that  Ralph 


THE  BRITISH    PAKTIZAtf.  37 

was  associated  in  his  mind  with  the  idea  of  his  recent 
assailants,  for  whenever  he  approached  the  bed-side 
for  the  purpose  of  binding  up  thet^ound,  the  ravings 
of  the  afflicted  man  would  cease,  and  he  would  shrink 
back,  cowering  and  trembling  with  terror. 

Groaning  in  spirit,  Ralph  Cornet  sunk  into  a 
remote  corner  of  the  room,  and  awaited  the  light  of 
day  with  the  fever  of  impatience.  Though  he  knew 
that  daylight  would  bring  no  peace  of  mind  to  him, 
yet  he  felt  oppressed  by  the  darkness. 

What  a  night  was  that  for  these  two  young  lovers  \ 
They  whose  affections  had  been  fanned  into  vital 
existence  by  the  wings  of  that  "  unknown  seraph,  " 
which,  it  is  said,  can  make  a  paradise  of  anj'  spot  on 
earth,  now  found  themselves  together  without  the 
power  of  receiving  any  comfort  from  the  beloved 
presence.  Not  one  word  of  consolation  or  condo- 
lence passed  between  them.  There  was  something 
so  awful  in  that  lonely  night's  watching  by  the  side 
of  a  maniac! 

Wearied,  pale,  and  motionless,  Annette  lay  at  her 
father's  feet,  and  closed  her  ears   to   shut   out   the 
sounds  of  that  awful  laughing  and  gibbering,  whence 
reason's  light  had  flown.     The  springs  of  hope  and 
comfort  had    dried   within    her;  and  Ralph  Cornet, 
dared  not  approach  her,   for  he  had   none  to  offer.. 
With   his    face    buried    in    his   hands,  he  sat  apart 
revolving  his   darkened   and   perplexing   thoughts. 
He  had  already  broken  his  word  to  his  men  and   to 
his  superior  officer.     They  would  move  without  him, 
yet  he  was  equally  incapable  of  leaving  Annette  m, 


38  TUE   BRITISH    PARTIZAft 

this  forlorn  situation,  and  of  going  to  seek  assistance 
for  her  from  his  countrymen,  for  he  would  be  rushing 
to  imprisonment  or  death. 

Near  the  hour  of  morning,  the  old  man,  from 
perfect  exhaustion,  fell  asleep  ;  and  rendered  nervous 
by  the  close  air  of  the  room  and  his  unpleasant 
thoughts,  Ralph  rose  and  opened  the  door  which 
looked  out  upon  the  river. 

The  first  grey  dawn  of  morning  was  rolling  away 
the  mists  of  darkness  which  lay  like  a  folded  curtain 
on  the  west,  rendering  just  perceptible  a  thick  vapor 
from  the  river,  which  seemed  to  rest  like  a  dark 
column  against  the  trees.  As  he  stood  watching  its 
slow  and  regular  ascent;  with  the  cool  breeze  of 
morning  blowing  on  his  brow,  Ralph  Cornet  con- 
cluded his  first  lesson  in  reflection.  During  the 
whole  period  of  his  happy  life,  he  had  never  before 
had  cause  for  one  thought  beyond  the  present,  and 
his  naturally  strong  mind  had  suffered  from  the 
enervation  of  a  thorough  indulgence.  But  that  one 
night  of  experience  had  been  to  him  more  than  years 
of  common  life — such  rapid  strides  can  the  mind 
make  under  the  stern  proofs  of  adversity — and  he 
stood  there  "a  wiser,  if  not  a  better  man.  " 

But,  in  the  meantime,  a  plot  was  in  process  of 
formation  against  him.  In  the  village  of  Vienna, 
Lieutenant*Pickens  had  that  night  quartered  a  small 
party  of  militia,  which  he  was  raising  for  the  State. 
At  a  very  late  hour  a  rap  was  given  at  the  Lieuten- 
ant's door,  and  he  was  informed  that  a  British  officer 


THK    BKITISII   PARTIZAN.  89 

was  at  that  time  in  the  cottage  of  old  Bruyesant,  and 
might  become  an  easy  prize. 

When  the  door  was  opened  the  informant  was 
gone,  but  with  the  first  light  of  morning  the  Lieuten- 
ant proceeded  cautiously  to  the  cottage.  A  noise  at 
the  door  disturbed  the  reflections  of  Ralph  Cornet — 

"  Who's  there  ?  "  he  asked. 

11  Friends,  "  was  the  reply. 

Ralph  hesitated.  "They  cannot  know  that  1  am 
here,"  he  said  to  himself,  "and  if  tin*  tories  have 
returned,  I  will  not  leave  this  spot.  " 

But  what  Was  his  surprise  on  opening  the  door,  to 
find  himself  confronting  four  men,  whom  in  the  im- 
perfect light  of  morning,  ho  discovered  to  be  in  the 
American  uniform,  and  well  armed.  For  a  moment 
they  stood  there  motionless — the  seekers  and  the 
sought — and  not  a  word  was  passed  on  either  side. 
But  m  that  moment  Ralph  Cornet  had  resolved  upon 
what  was  to  be  done.  Turning  hastily  to  Annette, 
he  whispered — "  Farewell !  "  and  seizing  his  hat  and 
sword,  which  lay  on  a  chair,  bounded  through  the 
open  door. 

It  was  yet  too  early  to  distinguish  features,  but 
his  superior  stature  and  the  boldness  of  his  move- 
ments-had awakened  his  enemies  to  the  truth. 

"  It  is  Kalph  Cornet !  "  passed  from  one  to  the 
other,  and  then  there  was  a  rush  on  both  sides  of  the 
house. 

"  Shoot  him  I — shoot  the  d — d  traitor!  "  were  the 
words  that  reached  the  ears  of  Annette  Bruycsant, 
as  she  lay  in  a  half-stupefied  bewilderment  on  the 


.40  THE   BRITISH    PART1ZAN. 

bed.  In  a  moment  she  comprehended  the  whole  of 
that  fearful  scene,  and  she  sprang  to  the  door  with  a 
wild,  terrific  cry.  Bat  they  had  passed  on,  and  as 
shot  after  shot  rang  in  her  ears,  the  poor  girl  fell 
senseless  to  the  ground. 

Ralph  Cornet  reached  his  canoe  in  safety,  and  the 
thick  fog  favored  his  escape.  His  baffled  pursuers 
heard  the  dash  of  his  oars,  but  they  had  no  boat  in 
which  to  follow  him,  and  they  were  obliged  to  limit 
their  revenge  to  the  discharge  of  their  pieces  in  that 
direction.  Ralph,  however,  contrived  a  feint  to 
deceive  them,  and  his  shout  of  triumph-  reached  them 
from  afar,  where  he  had  landed  down  the  river. 

When  Annette  opened  her  eyes  she  was  lying  on 
a  bed  in  the  cottage,  and  a  fair-haired,  delicate  young 
man  was  bending  over  her,  with  an  expression  of  much 
concern  on  his  intelligent  features.  A  plain  military 
coat  was  buttoned  tightly  around  his  slender  and  grace- 
ful figure,  and  a  sword  was  buckled  around  his  waist. 

"Thank  Heaven!  you  have  recovered  at ,  last, 
Miss  Bruyesant, "  said  he,  drawing  a  long  breath,  as 
of  a  person  much  relieved.  "Your  syncope  was  so 
long  and  deep  that  I  feared  for  3'our  life." 

Annette  looked  up  wildly.  A  feeling  of  painful 
confusion  thrilled  her  heart  on  seeing  herself  thus 
watched  by  a  stranger,  and  she  covered  her  face,  to 
which  the  blood  had  rushed  violently,  with  both  her 
hands.  But  as  a  recollection  of  the  past  events 
dawned  upon  her  mind,  she  lost  all  thoughts  of  her- 
self— 

M  Is  he — is  he  ?  " she  gasped. 


THE   BRITISH   PAKTlZAN.  41 

"lie  is  safe,  Miss  Bruycsant, "  said  the  stranger, 
.soothingly.     "'He   has  escaped   us  this   time.     God 
only  knows  how  much  evil  will  ensue  from  it!  n 

"Thank  God!  O,  thank  my  God!"  she  exclaimed, 
fervently,  as  she  half  arose,  and  raised  her  eves  and 
clasped  hands  to  Heaven. 

The  young  man  regarded  her  with  a  look  of 
mingled  pity  and  admiration,  as  she  remained  for 
some  moments  in  this  posture,  with  the  silent  tears 
trickling  down  her  pale  cheeks.  The  whole  truth  of 
her  love  for  Cornet  flashed  upon  his  mind. 

"Alas!  young  lady,  "  said  he,  "how  much  worthy 
you  are  of  a  better  fate!  Has  not  this  unfortunate 
youth  done  enough  to  forfeit  your  esteem  ?  " 

"  He  is  so  brave  and  noble,  "  said  Annette,  warmly. 
"  He  saved  my  father's  life  last  night,  though  he 
knew  that  he  was  his  bitterest  enemy." 

"Ah!"  exclaimed  the  young  officer  in  surprise, 
and  he  looked  round  for  the  first  time  to  where  old 
Bruycsant  lay,  yet  in  a  profound  sleep.  "  Something 
must  be  done, "  said  he,  when  Annette  had  related 
the  scene  of  the  past  night/  "You  cannot  remain 
here  thus  unprotected,  Miss  Bruycsant. "  Then, 
after  a  moment's  pause,  he  continued:  "I  know  a 
friend's  house  where  you  will  be  kindly  received.  " 

By  his  orders  the  soldiers  prepared  a  litter,  on 
which  they  laid  the  still  insensible  form  of  the  old 
man.  Wearied  nature  had  sunk  into  a  stupor,  from 
which  it  seemed  impossible  to  arouse  him, 

Touched  by  the  kind  and  delicate  consideration  of 
the  young  Lieutenant,    Annette  in   weeping  silence 


42  THE   Biillisn    FARTIZAN. 

followed  his  directions  for  leaving  that  dear  cottage 
for  the  first  time  in  her  life.  It  was  now  an  unsafe 
residence,  but  it  had  been  the  scene  of  her  child- 
hood's innocence,  and  the  sighs  she  gave  were  not 
only  for  her  present  distress,  but  for  those  "days  of 
old,"  now  hallowed  by  sorrow — 

"  For  long  remembered  hours,  when  first 
Lovo  on  her  dawning  senses  burst.  " 


CHAPTER    III. 

'•  For  there  was  breathing  round  him  all  the  charm 
Of  high  devotion  to  his  country's  weal ; 
And  the  bright  panop^^f  gold  and  steel 
That  mailed  his  breast  and  glittered  on  his  brow, 
Gave  proud  assurance  of  a  soldiers  vow. " 


He  came  to  bid  adieu - 


In  a  grove  of  beautiful  trees,  about  a  mile  from 
the  river,  stood  a  building,  which,  for  the  early  days 
of  which  we  have  been  writing  mi^ht  have  been 
considered  splendid.  It  was  large  and  lofty  in  its 
proportions,  and  though  of  rude  and  unfinished 
workmanship,  from  its  superior  size,  the  beauty  of 
its  grounds,  and  the  richness  of  its  furniture,  it  had 
that  air  of  aristocratic  pride  which  belongs  essentially 
to  the  English  gentry,  whether  on  this  or  the  other 
side  of  the  Atlantic. 

But  it  was  not  more  the  seat  of  wealth  and  taste, 
than  of  kindness  and  hospitality,  and  in  these 
troubled  times  the  wretched  found  a  shelter  there 
from  oppression.  Yet  it  had  not  itself  escaped  the 
curse  of  that  despicable  species  of  civil  warfare. 
All  around  was  silent  and  lonely,  where  active  indus- 
try and  cheerful  life  reigned  hitherto.  The  slaves 
were  scattered  like  sheep  without  a  fold,  and  the 
deserted  farm -yard  and  broken  fences  of  the  trampled 
corn  fields,  bore  evidence  of  predatory  incursions. 

A  short  time  after  the  events  recorded  in  the  last 


44  THE    BRITUri    PARTIZAN. 

chapter,  two  voting  girls  were  standing  in  the  loftiest 
balcony  of  that  building,  which  sat  airily  among  the 
green  branches  of  the  majestic  oaks,  and  looked  out 
through  their  openings  upon  a  landscape  which 
extended  to  the  river,  and  bounded  itself  by  the 
hills  of  Georgia,  in  all  their  rugged  and  varied  aspect 
The  river  wound  round  tj^he  north,  and  lay  like  a 
lake,  with  the  waters  sparkling  in  the  sun;  and  a 
little  farther  on,  where  they  through  "arching  wil- 
lows stole  away,"  a  column  of  smoke,  suspended 
over  the  rich  trees,  revealed  the  site  of  Vienna.  It 
was  a  beautiful,  picture,  in  all  its  varieties  of  river, 
vale  and  hill,  as  viewed  through  the  mellow  light  of 
a  September  morning.  But  the  fair  beings  in  that 
balcony  seemed  too  much  engrossed  with  more 
earthly  feelings  to  enjoy  the  serenity,  almost  divine, 
of  that  aspect.  Tt  was  evident  that  one  of  them  had 
been  weeping,  and  as  the  arms  of  the  other  encircled 
her,  the  afflicted  one's  head  rested  on  her  bosom. 

"  My  dear  Annette,  "  said  the  fairer  but  not  more 
beautiful  of  the  two,  u  forget  him  ;  he  is  unworthy 
of  you. " 

Annette  Brnyesant,  for  it  was  she,  raised  her  head 
from  the  bosom  of  her  friend,  and  regarding  her 
with  a  steady,  sorrowful  glance,  she  said  in  a  tone 
which  was  embittered  by  a  slight  reproach  : 

"Selina  Anderson,  you  have  never  loved!  " 

A  crimson  flush  overspread  the  features  of  the 
fair  girl  thus  addressed,  even  to  her  neck  and  temples. 
She  turned  hastily  away,  and  her  bosom  heaved 
convulsively ;    but  at   length    she   threw  her   arms 


TM  BRITISH   PARTIZAN.  45 

round  Annette,  and  pressing  her  cheek  to  hers,  she 
said  in  a  soft,  low  voice — 

"Forgive  me,  Annette,  if  I  have  seemed  to  dis- 
trust the  strength  of  woman's  love.  Ah,  I  know 
its  fidelity,  through  peril,  disgrace,  and  aye,  some- 
times through  coldness  and  neglect.  "  Then  sinking 
her  voice  still  lower,  as  if  afraid  to  hear  her  own 
confession,  she  continued  :   "I,   too,  love — one  that 

is  brave,  honorable,  and  respected — but" .     She 

stopped  and  blushed  still  deeper  -r  for  it  was  the  first 
time  that  the  proud  heart  of  Selina  Anderson  had 
confessed  this  much.  Gifted  with  a  mind  above  the 
ordinary  portion  of  her  sex,  she  possessed  powers  of 
endurance  and  concealment  which  gave  a  proud 
dignity  to  her  manners ;  and  those  who  sa^  her  only 
in  the  friendly  but  reserved  intercourse  of  social 
life,  never  dreamed  that  she  sighed  over  a  cherished 
but  uninvited  passion. 

They  had  not  left  the.  balcony  when  a  horseman 
rode  into  the  yard.  He  was  in  military  dress,  and 
armed  for  traveling,  as  appeared  by 'the  pistols  at  his 
saddle-bow  and  the  sword  which  hung  in  its  polished 
sheath  at  bis  side.  His  slender,  graceful  form  had  an 
air  of  uncommon  neatness  and  gentlemanly  elegance, 
and  his  very  handsome  features  expressed  a  singular 
union  of  feminine  softness  and  masculine  pride. 
But  there  were  times  when  that  doubtful  expression 
fled  before  the  noble  daring  of  his  high  natural  tem- 
perament. When  he  perceived  the  ladies,  he  reined 
up  his  fine  steed,  bowed  low,  and  then  springing 
from  his  seat,  in  a  few  moments  was  by  their  side. 
E 


46  THE   BRITISH   PARTIZAN. 

'"  Fair  ladies,"  said  be,  speaking  in  a  tone  of  playful 
chivalry,  which  was  rendered  almost  timid  by  his 
native  bashfulness,  "  I  have  come  to  render  you  your 
knight's  last  homage  before  his  departure,  "  and  he 
made,  a  motion  of  lowly  reverence. 

Annette  held  the  hand  of  her  friend,  and  on  look- 
ing into  her  face  perceived  that  she  had  suddenly 
become  very  pale,  and  unable  to  speak.  With  the 
true  instinct  of  a  woman's  heart,  she  instantly  com- 
prehended t}ie  feelings  of  Selina  Anderson,  and 
rinding  it  necessary  to  say  something,  she  enquired 
of  the  young  man  whither  he  was  bound. 

"I  go,  Miss  Bruyesant, "  said  he,  "to  join  my 
brother  at  the  block-house.  We  shall  be  called 
upon  sodft  to  co-operate  with  General  Morgan,  and  I 
have  come  to  beg  the  charms  of  your  prayers  against 
the  dangers  of  war;  for  surely,  "  he  continued,  with 
playful  badinage,  "the  prayers  of  love  can  avail 
much. " 

Annette  could  not  refuse  a  smile  to  this  piece  of 
ironical  gallantry. 

"  You  speak  lightly  of  a  very  serious  matter,  Mr. 
Pickens,  "  said  she,  "  but  if  the  prayers  df  a  grateful 
heart  can  avail,  you  will  go  unharmed.  I  cannot 
forget  that  'tis  to  you  I  owe  my  father's  life,  and  the 
ipeace  and  security  I  now  enjoy.  May  God  bless 
you,  sir1] " 

The  smile  vanished  from  the  lips  of  Lieutenant 
Pickens,  and  he  replied  warmly : 

"Speak  not  of  it,  Miss  Bruyesant;  it  was  but 
.  doing  my  duty  to  my  country  to  succor  the  dis- 


THE   BRITISH   PARTIZAN.  47 

tressed ;  and  may  God  forget  me,  when  I  forget  her 
calls  !  But  Miss  Anderson, "  hq  continued,  in  a  voice 
which  softened  involuntarily,  "has  she  no  word  to 
encourage  a  warrior  in  the  hour  of  battle?  " 

Selina  Anderson  had  hitherto  stood  leaning  against 
a  column,  with  her  fingers  wound  in  a  braid  of  her 
own  fair  hair;  but  on  hearing  this,  with  a  faint- 
smile,  she  broke  a  sprig  of  the  oak  which  played 
around  her  head,  and  said  with  forced  gaiety : 

"  Take  this — and  remember  that  Selina  Anderson 
believes  that  you  will  deserve  it !  " 

"Dear  type  of  heroic  deeds,"  said  he  with  play- 
ful enthusiasm,  as  he  received  the  branch,  "  may 
I  never  do  aught  to  impeach  the  judgment  of  the 
fair  one  who  bestows  thee !  " 

A  few  moments  afterward,  and  the  young  Lieu- 
tenant stood  on  that  balcony  with  Selina  Anderson 
alone.  Annette  had  somehow  or  other  disappeared. 
His  manner  now  evinced  an  embarrassment  but  little 
short  of  awkwardness,  and  very  different  from  its 
former  gay  and  easy  tone.  There  is  nothing  more 
trying  to  a  shy  man  than  a  tete-a-tete  with  a  lady  under 
common  circumstances,  and  Lieutenant  Pickens  had 
for  a  long  time,  most  unaccountably  to  himself,  expe- 
rienced a  secret  uneasiness  in  the  presence  of  Selina 
Anderson.  Perhaps  it  was  owing  in  part  to  the 
high  and  unmoved  dignity  of  the  young  lady's  man- 
ners. He  did  no*  analyze  his  feelings,  but  he  felt 
that  when  called  upon  to  address  her  by  a  single 
word  he  .was  more  than  usually  reserved,  and  he 
avoided  the  slightest    allusion    to   iove.      But    the 


48  THE    BRITISH    PARTIZAN. 

greater  the  effort  to  conceal  itself,  the  more  evidently 
is  love  betrayed.     As  has  been  most  wisely  observed^ 
by  one  who  possessed  a  key  to  its  thousand  mysteries, 

"  A  murderous  guilt  shows  not  itself  more  soon. 
Than  love  that  would  seem  hid  ;" 

and  it  is  doubtless  a  consciousness  of  this  fact  that 
makes  even  the  bravest  of  men  appear  very  cowards 
before  the  objects  of  their  affection.  The  pride  of 
the  human  heart  is  so  easih''  alarmed — so  sensitive! 

Selina  was  the  first  to  speak ;  for  nothing  oppresses 
woman  more  than  silence  in  such  a  situation. 

"You  go  so  soon,  Mr.  Pickens?" 

"To-morrow,  Miss." 

"  And  perhaps  we  may  never  see  you  again,"  said 
Selina,  with  mournful  earnestness,  as  if  she  had 
involuntarily  spoken  her  thoughts  aloud. 

The  eyes  of  the  young  man  fixed  on  her  for  a 
moment  steadily,  until  they  became  tender  in  expres- 
sion. 

"  And  will  Miss  Anderson  regret  me?"  he  asked, 
in  a  low  voice. 

The  tone  of  that  question  restored  Selina  Ander- 
son to  herself  again.  The  rich  blood  crimsoned  her 
cheek  as  she  thought  of  the  warmth  she  had 
betrayed,  and  she  answered  with  her  usual  proud 
indifference. 

"  Mr.  Pickens  would  be  regretted  by  all  who 
know  him,  and  certainly  I,  who  claim  the  title  of 
friend,  might  mourn  his  loss." 

Her  frigid  coldness  dissolved  the  enchantment  to 
which  he  had  for  a  moment  yielded,  and  recalled  the 


THE   BRITISH   PARTIZAN,  49 

.young  officer  back  to  the  stern  but  high  path  which 
duty  had  marked  out  for  his  contemplation. 

"  It  would  be  glorious  to  die  thus,  beloved  and 
regretted,"  he  said,  musingly.  »  But,  Miss  Ander- 
son," he  continued  with  rising  animation,  "it  is  not 
the  dream  of  a  vain  and  selfish  ambition  which 
actuates  our  spirits.  We  are  no  tyrants  treading  on 
the  empires  we  have  crushed.  Our  country  calls- 
it  is  the  voice  of  reason,  of  humanity,  and  of  free- 
dom ;  and,  in  life  or  death,  we  are  her's." 

The  young  lady  seemed  to  have  caught  something 
of  his  high  enthusiasm,  for  her  eyes  sparkled  through 
the  tears  which  hung  like  dew  drops  on  her  silken 
lashes. 

"Goon!"  said  she.  "I  feel  that  you  will  con- 
quer at  last;  for  certainty  none  but  the  God  of 
battles  has  inspired  that  high  and  holy  patriotism!" 
"  I  doubt  not  of  victory,"  he  replied,  with  a  smile, 
"  though'  the  prospect  is  at  present  discouraging. 
The  friends  of  libert\r  will  die  in  the  cause;  and 
such  perseverance  does  not  often  fail  of  success.  For 
myself,  I  go  forward  in  the  confidence  of  right,  and 
if  it  demands  the  sacrifice  of  my  blood,  it  shall  not 
be  withheld  penuriouslj'.  Freedom  must  be  estab- 
lished at  whatever  cost." 

11  Alas P  said  Selina,  "how  much  noble  blood 
must  be  spilt  to  rear  that  sacred  edifice!  And  those 
who  have  labored  most  may  least  enjoy  its  benefits."  ■ 

"  Yes,  Miss  Anderson.  But  the  friends  of  liberty 
would  answer  you  in  the  words  with  which  our  noble 
Washington   replied  to  the  suggestions  of  the  Gov- 


50  THE    BRITISH    PARTISAN; 

ernor   of   Virginia,"    and   the   young   oiYicer's  eyes 
brightened  as  he  repeated  that  beautiful  sentiment: 

"What  if  I  fall?  ray  country's  praise 
Will  grant  my  memory  honor  still ;  * 

And  if  they  fail  to  recollect, 
The  God  of  Justice  never  will !  " 

Selina's  heart  beat  thick  and  fast,  and  she  held 
her  breath  painfully  as  she  replied  with  outward 
calmness. 

"Far  be  it  from  me  to  chill  that  glorious  virtue. 
If  I  had  a  warrior's  arm  it  should  be  among  the  first 
to  strike  for  liberty.  But  life  should  not  be  thrown 
rashl}'  even  into  a  noble  cause — and — and  " — she 
hesitated  a  moment,  and  then  continued  rapidly, 
with  downcast  eyes;  -'and  remember,  Mr.  Pickens, 
there  are  those  who  wish  you  to  guard  yours  next  to 
vour  sacred  honor." 

A  bright  glow  overspread  the  marble  brow  of  the 
young  officer  as  he  turned  quickly  and  took  her 
hand. 

"Selina — Miss  Anderson,"  he  commenced: — the 
confusion  on  his  cheek  grew  deeper — t he  hal f  formed 
words  of  passionate  declaration,  which  seemed  to 
tremble  on  his  tongue,  died  away  unheard,  and, 
pressing  her  hand  to  his  lips,  he  rushed  down  the 
stairs  and  was  out  of  sight  in  a  moment, 

"And  is^he  gone? — on  sudden  solitude, 
How  oft  that  fearful  question  will  intrude." 

Selina  Anderson  stood  with  her  eyes  strained  in 
the  direction  of  his  flight,  and  w?hen  she  had  assured 
uerself  that  he  was  indeed  gone,  her  woman's  nature 


THE    BRITISH    PARTIZAN.  51 

conquered  her  forced  and  proud  philosophy.  She 
sat  down  and  wept  long,  long.  It  was  but  a  moment 
past,  and  he  stood  there  with  the  confession  most  dear 
to  her  breast,  trembling  on  his  lips,  and  now,  as  he 
vanished  from  her  sight,  with  the  melancholy  proba- 
bility that  she  might  never  see  him  more,  it  seemed 
to  the  poor  girl  that  she  was  tottering  over  a  dark 
gulf,  from  which  a  ray  of  sunshine  had  suddenly 
withdrawn. 

At  the  same  time  the  high-hearted  young  soldier, 
as  he  was  pursuing  his  lonely  path,  felt  an  emotion 
not  much  less  lively  than  her's.  He  mused  upon  her 
words  and  alteiidn's^enicttt,  so  different  from  her 
usually  dispassionate  exterior,  and  a  delicious  sensa- 
tion thrilled  his  heart  with  the  idea  that  he  was 
beloved.  Ilia  own  feelings,  long  repressed  or  unre- 
cognized, arose  with  full  force  in  his  breast ;  but  now, 
as  he  sped  onward  in  the  path  of  duty,  he  felt  that 
he  had 

"  A  rougher  task  in  hand 
Than  to  drive  liking  to  the  name  of  love  ;" 

and  with  warlike  philosophy  he  endeavored  to  banish 
the  tender  thoughts  which  oppressed  him. 

But  that  which  nature  was  insufficient  to  accom- 
plish fate  contributed  to  effect.  The  road  he  was 
pursuing  was  a  lonely,  retired  path,  leading  over  a 
ridge  of  hills  for  some  miles,  now  descending  into  a 
valley  where  the  world  seemed  bounded  to  a  span, 
and  again  ascending  to  the  summit  of  a  hill  as  high 
aa  the  tallest  trees  of  the  dell.  As  he  was  entering 
one  of  these   proibund  hollows,  Lieutenant  Pickeus* 


52  THE    BRITISH    PARTI  ZAN. 

stopped  suddenly,  struck  with  surprise  at  the  sight 
of  a  beautiful  lrorse  which  was  picking  the  tender 
grass  where  a  little  stream  struggled  along,  dash- 
ing against  the  roots  of  a  tree,  or  foaming  among 
the  masses  of  rock  scattered  through  the  ravine. 
The  young  officer  was  a  great  admirer  of  this  noble 
race  of  animals,  and  a  perfect  connoisure  in  their 
excellencies,  and  he  thought  he  had  never  seen  a 
specimen  more  superb  than  that  he  now  beheld.  It 
was  a  horse  of  prodigious  size  and  strength,  but 
without  the  clumsiness  that  usually  attends  these 
attributes.  On  the  contrary,  the  flexibility  and  grace 
of  his  limbs  seemed  to  embody  the  4t  speed  of 
thought."  His  flowing  mane  waved  on  the  ground 
as  he  grazed,  and  his  coat  was  black  and  shining, 
but  as  he  lifted  his  head  and  recognized  the  approach 
of  a  stranger,  by  throwing  back  his  small  ears  and 
snuffing  the  air  with  his  wide  nostrils,  a  white  cres- 
cent appeared  in  his  forehead,  which  relieved  the 
uniformity  of  his  color.  Fascinated  at  the  sight  of 
so  beautiful  an  animal,  Lieutenant  Pickens  did  not 
at  first  observe  a  man,  who,  enveloped  in  a  horse- 
man's cloak,  with  a  cap  drawn  over  his  brow,  stood 
in  apparently  deep  thought,  leaning  against  a  tree 
not  far  off.  When  the  horse  by  a  natural  instinct 
testified  that  they  were  not  alone,  the  unknown 
raised  his  head  with  a  start,  and  his  hand  instinct- 
ively grasped  his  sword.  As  he  did  so  the  glympse 
of  a  British  uniform  aroused  the  suspicions  of  the 
Lieutenant,  and  fully  impressed  with  the  belief  that 
it  was-  one  of  the  many  emissaries  sent  out  by  the 


THE  BRITISH   PARTIZAN.  53 

British  to  incite  the  insurgent  royalists,  he  deter- 
mined not  to  let  him  pass  unnoticed. 

He  first  hailed  the  man,  but  receiving  no  answer 
he  took  a  pistol  from  his  saddle-bow,  and  advancing 
near  him — for  Lieutenant  Pickens  knew  no  fear — 
he  demanded  his  name  and  motives,  or  the  surrender 
of  his  arms.  The  next  instant  he  felt  himself  in  the 
fierce  grasp  of  the  stranger,  and  the  contents  of  the 
pistol  were -lodged  in  the  tree  by  which  he  had  been 
standing.  The  slender  form  of  Hhe  brave  Pickens 
was  as  a  reed  in  the  hands  of  the  other,  but  though 
thrown  upon  the  ground  with* a  drawn  sword  sus- 
pended over  him,  he  asked  no  quarter. 

The  cloak,  had  fallen  and  revealed  the  British 
dress  of  the  stalwart  conqueror,  and  as  he  looked 
down  with  a  haughty  smile  upon  his  prostrate  foe, 
he  said  in  a  slow  and  measured  tone  : 

11  You  have  attempted  my  life,  without  knowing 
aught  evil  of  me ;  but  you  are  brave  and  a  soldier, 
and  I  give  you  yours,  now  it  is  at  my  mercy.  But, 
beware  how  you  tempt  again  the  desperate  hand  of 
Ralph  Cornet ! " 

Pickens,  who  had  begun  to  be  touched  by  this  noble 
conduct,  sprang  to  his  feet  on  hearing  that  name,  and 
stamping  on  tho  ground  in  a  fierce,  ungovernable 
rage,  he  drew  his  sword,  exclaiming  : 

"  God  !  I  will  not  owe  my  life  to  so  vile  a  creature  I 
Defend  yourself  t" 

Ralph  Cornet  parried  his  first  lunge,  and  ere  Pick- 
ens had   time  to   make  a  more  successful  thrust,  the 


54  THE   BRITISH   PAETlZAN, 

knee  of  Cornet  was  again  on  his  breast,  and  his  face 
for  the  first  time  appeared  convulsed  with  passion. 

"  Rash  man !  "  said  he,  in  a  quivering  voice, 
"  Have  I  not  said  beware?  Will  you  now  promise 
peace,  or  shall  I  be  obliged,  for  the  first  time,  to  dip 
my  hands  in  the  blood  of  a  count^man  ?  " 

"  No  !  "  said  Pickens,  sullenly.  "I  acknowledge 
your  superior  strength ;  but  we  shall  ever  be  foes." 

"  It  is  enough,"  replied  Kalph,  at  the  same  time 
releasing  his  grasp.  "I  can  expect  nothing  else.  I 
do  not  ask  for  friendship  ;  but  remember,  Mr.  Pick- 
ens, that  the  man  who  has  twice  given  his  life  to  a 
bitter  foe  does  not  deserve  the  epithet  of  vile. 

Lieutenant  Pickens  seemed  to  be  struck  with  these 
sentiments  in  a  man  whom  he  had  hitherto  regarded 
as  a  ruffianly  traitor ;  for  he  had  never  known  him 
personally,  and  fame,  in  blazoning  the  bold  deeds 
and  evil  principles  of  the  young  Cornet,  had  forgot- 
ten to  speak  of  his  youth,  his  inexperience,  and  his 
gentle  blood.  The  American  officer  was  no  less 
surprised  at  these  sentiments  of  honor  than  at  the 
extremely  youthful  appearance  of  the  man,  com- 
pared with  his  gigantic  strength.  A  feeling  rose  in 
his  mind,  mingling  regret  with  indignation,  jo  see 
this  extraordinary  work  of  nature  perverted  from 
its  nobler  purpose  ;  and  he  said,  with  strong  empha- 
sis, in  reply  to  Cornet's  last  remark  : 

u  But  you  will  acknowledge,  sir,  that  you  have 
deserved  the  hatred  of  your  countrymen,  not  only 
for  the  evil  you  have  done,  but  for  the  good  -you 
have  left  undone.     You  might  have  been ~" 


THE   BRITISH   PARTIZAN.  55 

M  It  matters  not  what  I  might  have  been,"  inter- 
rupted Ralph,  impatiently.  "  I  will  abide  the  con- 
sequences of  what  I  amy 

■"  Unhappy  man  !  "  answered  -Pickens.  "If  not 
naturally  bad,  you  have  been  wofully  misled.  But 
even   now,  if  you  wish  well  to  your  country " 

"  I  might  deserve  the  name  of  traitor,  which  you 
give  me,"  said  Ralph,  with  a  smile  full  of  scornful 
bitterness,  supplanting  the  thought  of  Pickens. 

The  officer  would  have  added  something  more; 
but  the  other  turned  from  him,  and  calling  his  horse 
by  name  the  animal  walked  up  to  him,  when  he 
threw  on  its  accoutrements,  mounted  and  departed. 

Pickens  waited  until  he  was  gone,  with  mingled  feel- 
ings of  anger,  shame  and  interest.  That  bold  man  had 
so  proudly  subdued  and  scorned  him,  and  with  such 
lofty  pride,  too  !  But  his  bitterest  thought  was  that 
he  owed  him  the  debt  of  a  life  doubly  risked,  and 
was  bound  by  the  laws  of  honor  to  take  no  measures 
against  him. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

11  A  fellow  by  the  hand  of  nature  marked, 
Quoted  and  signed  to  do  a  deed  of  shame." 

That  night,  as  Lieutenant  Pickens  sat  in  his  apart- 
ment in  Vienna,  looking  out  upon  the  river  and 
revolving  in  his  mind  the  strange  events  of  the  day, 
an  individual  was  ushered  into  his  presence. 

lie  was  a  man  in  the  bloom  of  life,  yet  in  that 
period  of  its  bloom  when  the  fully  expanded  graces 
of  summer  are  rich  and  pliant  with  the  freshness 
and  vigor  of  youth.  He  was  short  in  stature,  but 
slender  and  active,  and  his  limbs  seemed  disposed,  in 
a  strong,  wiry,  fox-like  suppleness.  His  face,  which 
was  ruddv  and  manly,  might  have  been  considered 
handsome  but  for  a  forehead  "  villainously  low," 
and  the  sinister  expression  which  very  black,  heavy 
brows  gave  to  a  pair  of  small,  restless  grey  eyes. 
His  florid  complexion  was  very  strikingly  relieved  by 
a  thick  mass  of  black  curling  hair  and  an  Herculean 
beard.  His  nose  was  straight  and  well  formed,  and 
his  full,  rich  lips,  opened  upon  a  set  of  teeth  strong, 
white,  and  beautifully  even.  But  there  was  nothing 
noble  or  elevated  in  his  physiognomy ;  on  the  con- 
trary, a  smile  of  servility  sat  affectedly  on  his  thick 
lips,  showing  that  he  .was  accustomed  to  work 
his  way  through  the  world  by  waiting  the  wind 
and  tide   of  events ;    and  his  restless  eye  had  fur- 


THE   BRITISH  PARTIZAN,  57 

tive  glances  of  cunning  and  treachery.  He  had 
not  the  air  of  a  man  who  has  much  confidence  in 
himself.  His  step  was  light  and  elastic,  but  it  had 
more  of  the  stealth iness  of  the  cat  than  the  self- 
importance  even  of  the  surly  mastiff;  and  he  had  a 
habit  of  glancing  suspiciously  round  him  when  he 
walked. 

As  he  presented  himself  before  Pickens  he  was 
dressed  very  plainly,  with  no  mark  of  distinction, 
except  that  he  wore  the  American  badge,  and  his 
arm  was  bound  in  a  sling. 

"Well,  sir,  what  is  your  business  ?  "  asked  Pickens 
in  the  haughty  tone  with  which  he  usually  addressed 
men  whom  he  did  not  respect. 

u  I  have  something  very  important,"  replied  the 
man,  casting  an  inquisitive  glance  round  the  room. 

"Never  mind,  Bates,"  said  the  Lieutenant,  with  a 
smile  of  irony.  "Say  on  ;  there  is  no  one  here  of 
more  doubtful  character  than  yourself." 

"  Your  honor  means  to  be  merry  at  my  expense," 
he  answered  with  an  unruffled  countenance.  "  There 
is  not  a  better  whig  in  these  parts  than  Hugh  Bates." 

u  As  occasion  serves,  I  suppose.  But  when  the 
tories  are  up  to  their  elbows  in  plunder,  and  no  fear 
of  hanging,  there  is  no  better  tory  than  Hugh  Bates. 
Eh!  have  I  not  hit  it?" 

A  dark  scowl  passed  quickly  over  the  countenance 
of  Bates,  which  Pickens  did  not  observe,  and  he 
continued : 

u  But  what  is  the  matter  with  your  arm,  Bates  ? 
We  have  had  no  encounter  lately,  I  think." 
F 


58  THE   BRITISH   PARTIZAN". 

u0h,  its  only  a  scratch  that  I  got  fighting  with  a 
tory,"  replied  Bates,  carelessly.  "The  devil  was 
making  off  with  the  best  horse  in  my  stable.  But 
I  guess  I  peppered  him — he  I  he !  he !  " 

"  Umph  !  umph  !  "  said  Pickens  incredulously. 
"Well,  it  is  all  one,  so  you  stick  to  the  right  side  in 
future.  But  beware  how  you  change  coats  again. 
You  hear  that,  Bates.  And  now  to  your  business. 
What  is  it?" 

11  I'm  glad  your  honor  has  not  forgotten  it,"  said 
Bates,  much  relieved  to  escape  from  the  other  sub- 
ject. "  It  is  a  matter  of  no  importance  to  me,  but 
of  very  great  interest  to  the  true  cause.  Colonel 
Ferguson  has  been  seen  in  this  neighborhood,  and 
Kalph  Cornet—  " 

"  Ha!  what  of  him?"  interrupted  Pickens  impa- 
tiently. 

"Your  honor  looks  as  pale  as  if  you  had  seen  his 
ghost,"  said  Bates,  with  something  of  the  "laughing 
devil  of  a  sneer."  "  Do  not  fear,  sir,"  continued  he, 
still, laughing  maliciously,  "that  villain  of  a  tory, 
bold  as  he  is,  will  hardly  attack  us  here.  He  is  only 
"helping  Ferguson  to  collect  the  royalists  in  this  neigh- 
borhood, and  then  they  are  to  be  off  for  North 
Carolina.  But  if  your  honor  is  not  afraid  to  meet 
ithis  lion,  I  can  show  you  where  you  can  grab  these 
two  friends  and  put  all  their  plans  to  sleep." 

The  sinister  countenance  of  Hugh  Bates  winced 
Vbeneath  the  withering  look  of  contempt  and  scorn 
'■which  Pickens  cast  upon  him  as  he  uttered  this 
ilast  speech.     Notwithstanding  the  characteristic  soft- 


THE   BRITISH   PARTIZAN.  59 

ness  of  the  young  Lieutenant,  he  was  subject  to  fits 
of  arbitrary  passion. 

"  Wretch  ! "  said  he,  rising  and  stamping  furiously 
on  the  floor,  "dare  to  mention  that  word  fear  again 
to  me,  and  you  stand  not  there  alive!  I  doubt 
much,"  he  continued,  as  he  paced  the  floor,  u  if  you. 
have  not  some  other  reason  for  wishing  this  man 
hanged  besides  your  immaculate  patriotism  !  "  And 
his  proud  lip  curled  with  ihe  strong  expression  of 
his  scorn,  until  it  displayed  the  ivory  teeth.     "  Ha  I 

I  remember  now.  Were  you  not  the  man  who- 
informed  me  that  Cornet  was  at  the  house  of  old 
Bruye*sant  on  the  night  that  he  was  attacked  by  the 
tories  ?  " 

A  slight  change  came  over  the  face  of  Bates,  and 
his  eye  sunk  beneath  the  penetrating  gaze  of  his 
officer  as  he  replied  humbly. 

u  I  was,  your  honor;  I  thought  it  right  to  inform 
vou  of  it." 

"  And  how  long  have  you  known  this  man  Cor- 
net, eh?" 

"  Oh,  bless  your  honor,"  said  Bates,  reassured — 

II  we  have  been  friends  of  old — he!  he  !  " 

11  And  you  wish  to  obtain  the  benefit  of  that 
friendship  by  betraying  him  into  our  hands.  Ah  I 
I  see  it  all/'  said  Pickens  as  he  walked  to  a  window. 

"Yes,  d — n  your  eyes,""  muttered  Bates  between 
his  clenched  teeth  as  the  Lieutenant's  back  was 
turned  to  him  ;  and  his  eyes,  as  they  fixed  upon 
him,  assumed  the  deadly  glare  of  the  tiger  when 
about  to  spring  upon  its  prey. 


60  THE   BRITISH   PARTIZAPT. 

But  in  these  few  moments  of  meditation  the  young 
officer  had  formed  a  resolution  which  very  materially 
changed  the  face  of  the  matter.  It  was  evident  to 
his  mind  that  Bates  had  some  personal  revenge  to 
gratify  in  his  persecution  of  Ralph  Cornet ;  but  he 
felt  it  his  duty  to  have  these  men  arrestedr  and  as  he 
was  himself  prohibited  from  leading  the  attack,  he 
resolved  to  trust  Bates  with  the  affair;  for  the 
thought  occurred  to  him  that  his  enmity  would  be 
the  surest  warrant  of  success.  Turning  suddenly  tu 
where  Bates  was  yet  standing,  he  said  with  haughty 
calmness : 

"  Well,  sir,  how  many  men  wiH  you  take  for  the 
enterprise  ?  " 

"  Me  ?  your  honor/7  exclaimed  Bates  in  real  sur- 
prise, while  a  gleam  of  satisfaction  lit  up  his  eyes 
with  savage  ferocity.  "If  your  honor  would  trust 
me  in  the  business,  I  warrant  that  with  four  stout 
fellows  I  ^ould  take  any  two  British  officers  in  his 
MajestyTs — I  mean  in  this  country. n 

"Well,  you  shall  have  your  choice;  but  remember 
that  your  head  will  stand  forfeit  for  the  lives  of  my 
men,  if  you  run  them  needlessly  into  danger.  When 
and  where  do  you  propose  taking  these  men  ?  '] 

"Between  this  and  daylight,"  said  Bates.  "The 
lories  are  to  meet  a  little  above  here,  at  the  upper 
ferry.  Ferguson,  in  order  to  join  them,  will  pass 
along  the  public  road ;  for  Cornet,  not  satisfied  to  go 
off  without  seeing  that  girl,  Annette  Bruyusant,  has 
been  down  on  a  fool's  errand  to  search  for  her  in  the 
French  settlement,  and  they  are  separated  from  their 


THE   BRITISH   PARTIZAN.  61 

party.  I  will  station  myself  on  the  road  and  wait 
for  them  ;  and  when  we  have  these  two  leaders,  what 
can.  the  tories  do,  your  honor?  " 

"  By  heavens  I"  said  Pickens  with  a  sneer,  "your 
patriotism  is  truly  self-sacrificing.  Do  you  know  the 
danger  of  meeting  these  men  ?  Ralph  Cornet  is  said 
to  hold  a  heavy  hand ! " 

" I-  have  tried  him  before,"  said  Bates,  with  a 
fiendish  grin,  and  then  continuing  with  an  inward 
exultation  as  if  forgetful  that  he  spoke  aloud,  M  and 
he  shall  feel  the  claws  of  the  old  fox  yet ! " 

"  Whatrs  that?"  asked  Pickens  in  an  authorita- 
tive tone.  "  These  men  are  to  be  taken  alive  ;  you 
understand,  Bates — no  harm  done  if  possible.  Alive, 
on  your  peril — you  hear  that?  " 

"  Your  honor  shall  be  obeyed,"  said  Bates,  bowing 
himself  off;  but  as  his  back  was  turned  the  whole 
of  his  broad  teeth  were  exposed  in  a  malicious  sneer, 
and,  clutching  the  paper  by  which  he  held  his  com- 
mission for  that  night  firmly  in  his  hand,  he 
exclaimed:  "D — n  the  preaching  fool!  Dead  or 
alive,  he  is  now  mine  !  " 

Penetrating  as  was  the  American  officer,  he  had 
not  calculated  on  the  full  malignity  of  the  heart  of 
Hugh  Bates,  and  he  imagined  that  by  limiting  his 
powers  he  should  restrain  him  from  committing 
any  outrage  against  humanity  in  the  business  with 
which  he  had  trusted  him.  It  is  a  remarkable  fact 
in  the  history  of  these  lawless  times,  that  however 
great  the  hatred  to  the  British  might  have  been,  an 
act  of  inhumanity  against  them  was  ever  revolting  to 
F* 


62  THE    BRITISH    rARTIZAW. 

the  feelings  of  the  American  officers,  and  though 
Ralph  Cornet  had  excited  a  bitterer  feeling  stillr 
Lieutenant  Pickens  could  not  resolve  to  see  him 
wantonly  murdered. 

But  Hugh  Bates  had  succeeded  beyond  his  most 
sanguine  hopes  in  his  interview  with  his  officer,  and 
he  went  forth  triumphantly  and  boldly  to  fasten  his 
net  around  his  intended  victim.  For  many  years  he 
had  been  the  deadliest  foe  of  Ralph  Cornet,  and  if 
he  had  concealed  his  hatred,  it  was  for  the  fell  pur- 
purpose  of  working  out  a  surer  method  of  revenge. 
From  his  earliest  youth,  Ralph  had  been  a  serpent 
in  his  path,  which  he  wished,  yet  feared  to  crush. 
Until  Ralph  Cornet  had  grown  into  manhood,  Hugh 
Bates  had  been  the  theme  and  boast  of  every  gather- 
ing in  the  country.  No  man  could  contend  sue^. 
cessfully  with  him  in  running,  wrestling,.  boxingr 
throwing  the  quoit,  or  in  an}r  of.those  games  of 
strength  and  manhood  in  which  the  new  world  had 
established  her  gymnasium.  But  in  every  encounter 
with  Ralph  Cornet  the  latter  had  borne  off  the  palm  ; 
and  from  the  first  time  that  he  brought  the  back  of 
the  proud  bully  to  the  ground,  the  enraged  Bates 
vowed  in  his  secret  heart  that  nothing  less  than  the 
death  of  the  young  man  could  wipe  away  the  stain 
of  his  disgrace.  With  every  successive  triumph  his- 
curses  deepened  to  see  with  what  lordly  pride  Ralph 
Cornet  spurned  the  laurels  which  he  had  torn  from 
him. 

nis  evil  genius  in  love  as  in  ambition,  Ralph  had 
also  won  the  affections  of  the  only  being  who  had 


THE    BKITISH    PARTIZAN.  68 

ever  touched  the  vitiated  but  not  insensible  heart 
of  Bates.  But  from  the  moment  that  old  Bruye*sant 
had  indignantly  refuse*!  to  admit  his  addresses  to  his 
daughter,  the  fierce  passion  with  which  he  had  loved 
her  was  turned  into  a  hatred,  which  called  loudly  for 
revenge  on  all  who  had  come  between  him  and  his 
wishes. 

He  dissimulated  his  feelings  until  he  could  makeaf 
sure  spring  upon  his  prey,  and  his  hatred  germin- 
ating in  the  depth  of  his  burning  heart,  produced  a 
strong  and  living  principle  of  revenge.  He  fed  upon 
it — he  slept  upon  it— he  aggravated  it  day  by  day* 
At  length  the  war  opened  an  agreeable  theatre  for 
the  views  of  Hugh  Bates.  The  lawless  rule  of  the 
loyalist  party  was  congenial  to  his  brutal  licentious- 
ness; besides,  it  was  opposed  to  the  family  of  Cornet, 
and  without  sufficient  sentiment  to  become  a  partisan, 
he  was  a  tory  in  the  vilest  sense  of  the  word.  We 
have  seen  him  at  the  cottage  of  old  Bruyesant,  where 
Ralph  Cornet,  by  a-  fortunate  interference,  again 
stepped  in  his  path  and  thwarted  him  of  his  dearest 
revenge.  Ralph  Cornet's  concurrence  with  the  roy- 
alist party,  instead  of  canceling  the  debt  of  hatred 
which  he  owed  him  only  seemed  to  place  him  more 
securely  in  his  power,  and  when  on  that  night  he  fled 
from  the  cottage  with  a  broken  arm,  he  conceived 
the  base  plan  of  betraying^  him  to  the  American 
militia,  as  already  stated. 

The  failure  of  that  scheme  was  not  sufficient  to 
withdraw  tbc  ferocious  Bates.  He  dreaded  to  meet 
Oornet  in  a  personal  encounter,  but  he  imagined  that 


04  THE    BRITISH    I'ARTJZAN. 

by  joining  the  whig  militia  he  could  make  them  a 
party  to  his  revenge,  by  working  upon  their  natural 
indignation  against  the  royalist  leader.  Accordingly 
he  appeared  before  Pickens  and  enrolled  his  name 
with  the  company  then  enlisting.  The  actions  and 
principles  of  Bates  had  been  so  secret  that  this  new 
step  excited  but  little  notice  among  the  whigs. 
Vickens,  from  his  connection  with  the  cottage  scener 
suspected  more  of  his  real  character  than  any  one 
else  knew.  Thus  secured  in  this  point,  Bates  kept  a 
strict  surveilance  upon  the  actions  of  Ralph  Cornet 
fey  mingling  with  the  tories,  who  revealed  to  him 
unhesitatingly  their  plans  and  operations,  and  by 
this  tortuous  course  he  was  enabled  to  spread  his 
toils  for  his  enemy. 


CHAPTER  Y. 

"Then  Hafed,  if  thou  lov'st  me,  fly  f 
I  pray  thee,  if  thou-  lov'st  me,  fly  I 
East,  west     alas  !  I  care  not  whither. 
So  thou  art  safe  I"  Scott. 

Aftek  the  departure  of  the  young  Lieutenant 
Annette  Bruyesant,  on  returning  into  the  baleony, 
found  her  friend  weeping.  It  had  now  become  her 
part  to  console,  or  rather  to  weep  in  sympathy. 

The  human  heart,  when  left  to  indulge  its  sorrows 
in  inactivit}",  sinks  under  them,  and1' it  is  no  doubt 
owing  to  the  fact  that  in  these  perilous  times  the 
minds  of  the  softer  sex  were  kept  in  the  constant 
exercise  of  active  duties,  that  they  showed  uncom- 
mon strength  for  exertion  and  endurance. 

A  more  than  common  share  of  tire  duties  of  life 
at  this  time  devolved  upon  them.  All  honest  men 
of  strength  and  capacity  had  volunteered  to  meet 
the  foe  which  was  entering  the  country,  and  the 
aged  and  infirm  left  at  home  were  afraid  to  venture 
out.  The  few  slaves  then  in  the  settlement  had 
lx3Come  worse  than  useless  property,  and  those  that 
were  not  scattered  through  the  woods  were  obliged 
to  be  kept  concealed  to  prevent  them  from  falling 
into  the  hands  of  the  tories.  In  this  emergency  the 
fair  daughters  of  the  land — those  tender  scions  hith- 
erto  guarded  with  sorh  gentle,  care,  whom  even  the 
"  winds  of  heaven    had  fiot  been   permitted  to  visit 


66  THE    BRITISH    PARTIZAtf. 

too  roughly  "—undertook,  for  the  relief  of  their  suf- 
fering families,  the  most  menial  offices,  and  performed 
them  with  unshrinking  bravery  and  cheerfulness. 

There  are  some  situations  in  life,  when  the  nerves 
being  .strained  to  their  utmost  tension,  give  a  tone  of 
hardihood  to  the  weakest  system  ;  and  there  are 
many  instances  in  the  private  histories  of  the  fami- 
lies of  those  left  open  to  the  aggressions  of  thetories, 
of  this  latent  fortitude,  or  as  it  might  be  better  named 
necessitous  courage. 

Annette  Bru3'esant  and  her  friend  had  not  long 
indulged  in  the  luxury  of  grief,  when  they  remem- 
bered that  the  breadstuff  had  been  exhausted  since 
the  last  night,  and  there  was  nothing  to  provide  for 
the  wants  of  the  famity.  What  was  to  be  done  ? 
Relief  might  be  procured  from  a  mill  some  miles  off. 
But  old  Bruydsant  was  lying  at  the  house,  still  dis- 
abled from  the  injuries  he  had  received,  and  the  only 
boy  in  the  family,  a  lad  of  ten  years,  was  sick  of  a 
fever.  Then  there  was  Clary,  faithful  old  Clary,  the 
only  servant  remaining  to  them  ;  but  she  might  be 
stolen  or  murdered  by  the  tories.  "  We  will  go!" 
said  the.  heroic  girls.  And  now  behold  the  two 
beings,  who  but  a  few  moments  before  had  nearly 
lost  themselves  in  a  maze  of  cloudy  reveries,  mounted 
on  a  little  vehicle,  half  between  chair  and  cart,  to 
which  was  attached  the  only  horse  left  them,  and 
proceeding  cheerfully  if  not  merrily  on  their  novel 
errand.  The  amusing  varieties  of  the  situation  in 
which  they  found  themselves  divested  the  memory 
of  their  so  recent  griefs,  so 'perfectly  unnatural  it  is 


THE    BRITISH    PARTIZAS.  67 

for  the  young  and  innocent  mind  to  he  sad  while 
pursuing  the  path  of  duty.  Enjoy  while  ye  may, 
young  creatures,  for  ye  hav^  yet  much  to  endure ! 

They  had  seen  nothing  to  alarm  them  on  their 
route,  and  were  returning  with  feelings  of  almost 
triumphant  gayety  to  their  home.  They  felt  that 
they  were  bringing  comfort  to  the  sick  and  hungn', 
and  joy  to  all  by  their  gladdening  presence.  But 
scarcely  were  they  arrived  in  sight  of  the  house, 
when  they  stopped,  and  looking  at  each  other  with  a 
kind  of  wild  affright,  the  expression  of  their  speech- 
less countenances  seemed  to  say,  "the  tories  have 
been  here!"  No  living  creature  was  visible,  but 
the  broken  windows,  the  mutilated  furniture  scat- 
tered in/ragments  over  the  yard,  and  the  contents  of 
the  feather-beds  filling  the  air,  told  the  tale  at  a 
single  glance.  When  they  had  partially  recovered 
from  their  first  exclamations  of  horror,  the  poor  girls 
proceeded  with  slow  and  unwilling  steps  to  the  house, 
expecting  momentarily  to  encounter  the  murdered 
bodies  of  their  friends ;  but  as  they  continued  the 
search  over  these  lone  and  desolated  apartments, 
hope  arose  once  more  in  their  bosoms.  Not  a  mark 
of  blood  was  to  be  found,  and  the  family  had 
doubtless  escaped.  But  they  had  left  no  trace  of 
their  refuge. 

It  was  fast  becoming  night — a  night  of  pitchy 
darkness — for  the  moon,  which  was  by  this  time 
risen,  found  it  impossible  to  struggle  through  the 
thick  clouds  which  were  distilling  a  slow  but  heavy 
mist  upon  the  chilly  breeze.     In  the  pitiful  and  dread 


68  THE   BRITISH    PARTIZAN. 

uncertainty  of  these  eircu instances,  Annette  and 
Selina  wandered  through  the  deserted  place,  search- 
ing vainly  for  a  light  or  morsel  of  food.  The  work 
of  destruction  had  been  complete.  Everything  val- 
uable had  been  carried  off,  and  that  which  was  not 
portable  wantonly  destroyed.  Scarcely  a  piece  was 
left  of  the  elegant  mirrors  in  which  at  morning  these 
lovely  girls  had  viewed  themselves.  The  shelves 
were  empty  of  plates.  In  one  room  a  table  was 
strewed  with  the  fragments  of  a  feast,  mingling  with 
broken  glasses  and  dishes  stamped  under  feet. 

It  was  like  haunting  the  chambers  of  the  dead  to 
them,  and  rather  than  remain  amid  that  fearful 
desolation,  the}'  submitted  themselves  to  the  dark- 
ness of  the  night.  Without  light  or  guide  or  mark 
by  which  to  steer  their  course,  they  took  the  direc- 
tion of  the  river,  supposing  that  their  friends  might 
have  hid  themselves  in  some  one  of  the  natural 
recesses  of  the  deep  wood.  On  they  wandered, 
through  the  tangled  mazes  of  the  thickety  vales  and 
marshes.  But  no  light  broke  on  their  straining  eye- 
sight. All  around  was  darkness — silent,  dreadful, 
profound  darkness.  Sometimes,  indeed,  as  they 
scrambled  through  the  deep  hollows,  an  owl  would 
send  up  his  fiendish  laugh  over  their  heads,  but  no 
other  sound  came  to  lC  vex  the  drowsy  ear  of  night." 
Fear,  wild,  agonizing,  supernatural  fear  took  posses- 
sion of  their  hearts ;  their  tongues  seemed  glued  in 
their  mouths,  and  every  nerve  strained  and  shrink- 
ing from  the  awful  echo  of  their  own  footsteps.  At 
length  they  sank  on  the  ground,  wearied  and  dis- 


THE  BRITISH   PAKTIZAN.  $9 

heartened,  and  a  stupor,  occasioned  by  fatigue  and 
the  damp  air,  was  fast  steeping  their  senses  in  forget- 
fulness.  But  in  that  moment  of  death-like  stillness, 
a  sound  of  voices,  very  faint  and  distant,  came 
to  their  ears.  Nerved  by  hope,  they,  sprang  to 
their  feet,  and  ran  on  in  that  direction.  But  the 
sounds  seemed  hollow  and  deadened  as  if  they  came 
from  some  subterranean  abode,  and  often  did  the 
poor  wanderers  stop  to  assure  themselves  that  they 
were  in  the  right  course.  At  length  they  seemed  to 
be  ascending  a  hill,  and  suddenly  to  their  sight  a 
broad  glare  came  up  from  the  earth,  spreading  a 
ghastly  }Tellow  glow  over  the  leaden  sky  and  the 
sombre  foliage  of  the  giant  trees ;  but  what  was  their 
horror  on  discovering  beneath  them  the  very  objects 
from  which  they  were  flying! 

The  hill  or  bank  on  which  they  stood  extended 
round  for  many  feet  perpendicularly  below  them, 
forming  a  kind  of  circular  barrier  for  the  river  which 
in  high  water  overflowed  the  enclosure.  Tall  trees 
grew  up  from  the  loamy  soil,  but  the  undergrowth 
was  wanting,  and  the  space  beneath  was  strewed 
with  fallen  trees,  dried  sticks  and  leaves.  Its  natu- 
rally gloomy  aspect  was  now  rendered  fearfully  wild 
by  the  effect  of  the  various  lights  scattered  through  it, 
around  which  sat  or  stood  about  thirty  or  forty  fero- 
cious looking  beings,  in  every  variety  of  grotesque  atti- 
tudes. Several  groups  of  four  and  five  were  seated 
at  cards  round  an  old  log  or  stump,  in  which  they 
had  placed  a  rosin  torch,  very  ingeniously  sheltered 
*  from  the  night  air  by  a  piece  of  bark — and  every 
G 


70  THE   BRITISH  PARTIZAN. 

few  minutes  they  stopped  to  curse  their  luck,  or  the 
rain,  which  fell  occasionally  in  soft  showers,  wetting 
them  through  by  slow  degrees.  Some  had  burnt 
coal  fires  under  the  logs,  by  which  they  sat  cooking 
and  eating;  and  others  had  kindled  blazing  fires  by 
piling  up  heaps  of  the  dried  sticks  and  faggots, 
around  w^ich  they  circled  in  irregular  measures, 
singing,  shouting,  and  brandishing  their  empty 
bottles  over  dark  countenances,  which  were  rendered 
fiendish  by  contrast  with  the  red  handkerchiefs  tied 
carelessly  around  them. 

Fascinated  by  a  spectacle  so  novel,  the  poor  fugi- 
tives crouched  closely  behind  a  large  tree  in  breath- 
less curiosity.  Just  beneath  them,  on  the  ground, 
sat  two  men,  who  seemed,  by  some  marks  of  distinc- 
tion, to  be  the  leaders  of  the  band.  Their  swords  lay 
beside  them,  and  hats  with  red  feathers  sat  jauntily 
on  their  rugged,  sun-burnt  features,  which  were 
strongly  illumined  by  the  light. 

"Ha  !  ha!  ha  !  "  laughed  one  of  them  in  a  coarse, 
rough  voice,  so  near  that  the  frightened  girls  heard 
distinctly  every  tone,  "  How  these  rascals  do  gig  it," 
said  he,  "  they  would  sell  themselves  to  the  devil  for 
a  bottle  of  whisky." 

"  Damn  it,  Johnson  !  "  said  the  other,  "  you  needn't 
say  a  word ;  we've  all  had  our  share  of  the  fat  things 
■  at  the  big  house  yonder,  to-day.  How  the  poor 
•  devils  did  run!  But  as  for  belonging  to  the  old 
.fellow  below  there,  that  you  speak  of,  I  think  I 
l.know  somebody  who  will  be  apt  to  go  there  himself, 


THE   BRITISH  PARTIZAN.  71 

to  pay  for  a  barrel  of  jewels  and  trumpery  which  the 
old  woman  had  buried  on  the  river  bank," 

"Ha!  ha  I"  again  laughed  the  brutal  Johnson. 
"  That  was  the  best  thing  I  ever  done,  Georgie, 
except  it  was  skinning  that  old  black  rascal  alive, 
when  he  wouldn't  tell  me  where  his  master  was." 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  other,  who  was  known  by  the 
familiar  title  of  Georgie  Long,  "and  if  you  are  not 
damned  for  that,  you  will  be  for  blowing  out  the 
brains  of  the  little  brat  who  caught  hold  of  the 
blanket  you  was  pulling  off  of  him;" 

"  Well,  Georgie,"  said  he,  rising  from  his  elbow 
with  an  unmoved  and  hardened  smile,  "  we  have  both 
done  enough  to  damn  us ;  but  no  matter — its  high 
time  we  were  moving.  You  know  we  promised  to 
meet  Ferguson  at  the  ferry,  and  if  we  wait  till  day- 
light we  might  chance  to  fall  in  with  some  of  the 
d — d  rebels.  I'll  be  sworn  they  have  the  scent  of 
us  by  this  time." 

"  And  Cornet,  Captain  Cornet,  is  to  lead  us  into- 
North  Carolina,"  said  Long.  "  He  seems  to  be  in 
high  favor.  But  do  you  feel  like  knocking  under  to 
this  proud,  beardless " 

A  deep  groan  from  the  top  of  the  hill^irrested  this 
speech.  . 

"  Who?s  there?"  shouted  the  two  men,  as  they 
sprang  simultaneously  to  their  feet. 

In  a  few  moments  one  half  the  tories  had  scoured 
the  hill.  But  the  unfortunate  objects  of  their  alarm 
had  fled,  with  footsteps  winged  by  fear,  far  from  the 
tory  camp. 


* 


72  THE   BRITISH   PARTIZAN. 

Their  feet  were  bruised,  their  garments  torn,  but 
they  knew  not  where  to  stop  ;  and  in  the  delirium  of 
their  fears  and  confusion  they  ran  on  and  on,  far  as 
possible  from  the  direction  they  had  at  first  taken, 
until  one  of  them  stumbled  over  something  and  fell 
with  a  scream  to  the  ground. 

"  Mercy  I  mercy !  ye  wad  na  take  an  auld  man's 
life  ?  "  said  a  voice  in  a  broad  Scotch  accent,  as  some- 
thing seemed  struggling  from  the  grouud. 

"Heavens  be  thanked f."  said  Annette  Bruyesant, 
with  a  long,  deep  inspiration  of  her  suspended 
breath.  "It  is  the  voice  of  old  Andrew  Morrison, 
the  miller ! " 

"  Yes,  it  is  auld  Andrew  Morriso-n/'  said  the  man, 
whose  senses  were  not  yet  clear  of  the  vapors  of 
sleep,  "and  what  harm  has  puir  auld  Andrew  ever 
din  ye,  I  maun  ask?" 

"  For  shame,  Andrew,  rise.  Itrs  I,  Annette  Bruye*- 
sant." 

"  Oh,  an'  is  it  yersel',  Miss  Annie?  Then  itcanna 
be  the  tories  I  Guid  be  praised  for  ar  his  mercies  I 
Bless  yer  bonnie  face,"  he  continued,  "how-caum  ye 
here,  yer  lone  sel7,  this  waefu7  night  1  Hae  ye  nae 
beem  hame,  syne?" 

"Yes,  Andrew,  but  the  tories  have  sent  our 
friends  to  the  woods,  and  we  did  not  know  where  to 
find  them  ?  " 

"  Bless  the  puir  childer  I  And  ye  hae  na  hame, 
then?"  said  the  kind  hearted  Andrew.  "I  guessed 
some  e*il  wad  come  to  ye.  Sae  when  yc  had  left  the 
mill  aboon,  I  said  to  mysel',  I  maun  see  the  bonny 


THE   BRITISH  PARTIZAN.  73 

leddies  safe  hame ;  but  jist  as  I  was  ganging  on  the 
road  hard  bye,  I  heard  the  tramp  o'  feet,  and  as  I 
dinna  ken  whether  frien  or  fae,  I  turned  in  here  a  bit 

to  rest  mysel'  'til  day .     But  the  Lord  defend  us, 

Miss  Annie,  wha's  here  ?  "  continued  old  Andrew,  as 
he  stooped  and  raised  from  the  ground  the  form  of 
Selina  Anderson,  who,  through  fatigue  and  fear,  had 
fainted. 

Annette  supported  her  in  her  arms,  and  seeing  she 
did  not  speak,  the  old  man  groped  about  for  a  stream, 
which  he  knew  was  close  by,  and  bringing  the  water 
in  his  hat,  threw  some  in  her  face.  When  she  had  a 
little  revived,  he  spread  his  coat  on  the  grass,  and 
begging  them  to  lie  down  and  rest  he  started  off, 
saying  kindly — 

"  Ye  maun  bide  here  young  leddies  till  I  come 
back.     I  will  bring  ye  to  yer  freins." 

Worn  out  with  fatigue,  the  poor  wanderers  folded 
in  each  other's  arms,  sank  into  a  deep  sleep.  When 
they  awoke  morning  had  opened  on  the  horizon,  and 
was  chasing,  with  successive  shades  of  rose  and 
orange,  the  dark  clouds  of  the  night  away  to  the 
west.  Then  all  rolled  off,  and  no  stain  was  left  on 
the  delicate  azure,  whence  the  bright,  beautiful  star 
of  morning  looked  down  upon  them,  like  the  smilingi 
and  benignant  eye  of  the  All-seeing  One. 

Chilled  with  the  damp  air  of  the  night,  they  arose 
and  walked  out  into  the  road.  The  old  man  had  not 
yet  returned.  Of  course  he  had  not  found  their 
friends,  and,  accustomed  to  act  for  themselves,  and 
wearied  of  suspense,  they  determined  to  follow  the 
G* 


74  THE   BRITISH   PARTIZAN. 

road  until  they  reached  Vienna,  where  they  might 
expect  to  find  assistance. 

They  had  not  proceeded  far  when  they  were  over- 
taken by  two  horsemen.  One  hasty  glance  behind 
assured  them  that  they  were  in  the  uniform  of  British 
officers,  and  the  poor  girls  turned  modestly  aside  to 
suffer  them  to  pass.  But  that  one  glance  had  been 
sufficient — in  the  next  moment  Kalph  Cornet  was 
kneeling  before  Annette.  lie  had  forgotten  the  bit- 
terness of  their  last  meeting,  his  own  circumstances, 
and  the  presence  of  witnesses,  in  the  surprise,  the 
rapture,  the  agony  of  seeing  her  again. 

He  caught  her  hand  between  both  his  own.  "  Oh, 
Annette  I  "  he  said,  M  where  have  you  been  ?  I 
have  sought  you  everywhere." 

With  a  faint  scream,  Annette's  head  sunk  on  the 
bosom  of  her  friend,  and  she  made  an  effort  to  with- 
draw her  hand.  Kalph  relinquished  it,  and  turned 
away  his  head,  much  aggrieved — 

"  You  will  not  speak  to  me,  Annie  ?  "  he  said  in  a 
tone  of  reproof  so  touching  that  she  burst  into  tears. 

"  Young  gentleman,"  said  Selina  Anderson,  who 
was  vexed  at  Annette's  distress,  "  if  I  judge  rightly 
you  are  Mr.  Cornet ;.  if  sor  you  had  best  leave  us. 
This  is  a  dangerous  place  for  you.  As  for  Miss 
Bruyesant,  whatever  kind  remembrances  she  may 
have  for  you,  she  can  never  look  with  favor  on  the 
man  who  herds  with  the  destroyers  of  her  country, 
and  who  gives  his  countenance  and  support  to  the 
merciless  robbers  that  send  her  friends  into  the  woods 
penniless  wanderers." 


THE    BRITISH   PARTI Z AN,  75 

"Heavens!"  said  Ralph  eagerly,  "you  are  not 
thus?" 

u  Yesr'r  replied  the  young  ladyr  with  bitter  empha- 
sis, "  thanks  to  the  courtesies  of  your  friends,  we 
have  been  all  night  seeking  ours  from  whom  we  have 
been  separated." 

Ralph  Cornet  stood  for  a  moment  with  his  brow 
knit  and  his  lips  compressed,  until  he  scarcely  seemed 
to  breathe.  Perhaps  till  that  moment  he  had  never 
known  the  bitterness  of  his  situation  ;  for  he  felt  that 
he  could  not  revenge  that  outrage.  But  he. turned 
round  calmly — 

"  I  am  not  the  ruffian  you  take  me  for,"  said  he,  in 
a  subdued  voice.  "  If  they  have  driven  you  from 
your  homes,  it  is  my  duty  to  restore  you  to  them. 
Your  friends  have  taken  to  the  woods,  did  you 
say?" 

Selina  answered  proudly,  a3  if  she  would  have  dis- 
dained the  proffered  service,  but  Ralph  affected  not 
to  notice  it. 

"  Colonel  Ferguson,"  said  he  to  the  officer  who  sat 
on  horseback,  viewing  the  scene  witli  eager  interest, 
uyou  can  either  await  me  here,  or  go  on.,r 

"  Heaven  forbid,  Cornet,  that  I  should  prove  so 
recreant  a  knight  as  to  retire  from  such  a  gallant 
enterprise,"  exclaimed  the  accomplished  English- 
man, leaping  from  his  saddle.  "  If,"  continued  he, 
bowing  gracefully,  "  if  these  young  ladies  will  accept 
my  serviceH "  . 

uNol  no!"  Ralph   Cornet,  you   shall    not  go  I " 


76  THE    BRITISH   PARTIZAN. 

exclaimed  Annette,  starting  up  wildly.     u  They  hate- 
you  1 — they  seek  for  you  1    You  go  to  certain  death  I" 

"I  fear  no  danger  for  my  young  friend  but  that  of 
your  presence,  Miss  Bruj-esant."  said  Colonel  Fergu- 
son. "  For  all  others  I  would  trust  his  ingenuity  and 
daring." 

"  Trust  me,  Annette,"  said  Ralph,  with  a  bitter 
smile.  "I  will  see  you  in  safety  before  I  die.  I 
know  these  woods — follow  me." 

Ralph  Cornet  led  the  way,  and  Colonel  Ferguson, 
with  the  rein  of  his  bridle  thrown  over  his  arm, 
walked  by  the  side  of  Selina  Anderson,  whom,  in 
spite  of  her  prejudices,  he  had  already  began  to 
interest  by  the  graces  of  an  elegant  mind  and  noble 
soul. 

"You  are  the  sister  of  an  American  General,"  said 
he  at  length,  "  and  you  are  worthy  of  being  so. 
You  will  be  surprised,  }roung  lady,  to  hear  that  I 
respect  your  feelings  and  your  pride;  but  hereafter, 
whenever  you  hear  the  name  of  Ferguson  men- 
tioned, do  him  the  justice  to  say  that  he  admired  the 
enemy  it  was  his  misfortune  to  oppose.'! 

They  had,  however,  proceeded  but  a  short  dis- 
tance in  this  way,  when  they  were  met  by  old  An- 
drew Morrison.  He  had  found  the  camp  and  was 
returning.  The  old  Scotchman  stopped  short  on 
seeing  them ;  but  Ralph  advanced  and  shook  him 
cordially  by  the  hand. 

"  Ah.  Ralph,  Ralph ! "  said  he,  in  reply  to  that 
familiar  salutation,  "Sic  waefu  times  I  sic  waefu 
times  I     Wha   wad    hae   thought   to   hae   seen   yer 


THE  BRITISH  PARTIZAN.  77 

manfu'  limbs  in  British  gear — ye  that  waur  aye  sae 
kind  to  a' " 

"  Hush,  hush !  Andrew,  for  Heaven's  sake,"  said 
Ralph,  impatiently. 

u  Na,  na  !'  I  wadna  hush,.  Ralph,  when  yer  ain  life 
is  at  stake.  Turn  back  this  instant  and  flee  ;  for  the 
tories  hae  been  up  at  their  e'il  doings  and  the  militia 
men  are  out.  They  will  be  here  fu'  sune,  for  they 
hae  heard  that  ye  wad  pass  this  way.  Flee,  Ralph, 
fleet  A'e  moment  mair  and  I  dinna  ken  what  may 
betide." 

"I've  sworn  to  see  them  safe,"  said  Ralph  sullenly f 
"  and  I  will  die  in  the  attempt." 

"Wha?  these  bonny  leddies?  Bless  yer  kind 
heart,  they  are  safe  enough  wir  auld  Andrew.  The 
camp  is  hard  by.  Dinna  gang  there,  boy.  On  the 
word  of  an  auld  man,  wha  has  lo'ed  ye  frae  the  time 
ye  hae  sat  on  his  knee,  a  canny  child — awa!  awal 
Ye  waur  aye.  kind  to  an  auld  body,  an'  .■ " 

At  that  instant  the  tramp  of  horses'  feet  was  heard 
on  rthe  dry  sticks  and  leaves  of  the  forest. 

"  Whist  t  whist  1  my  boy  f  Wat  ye  wha's  coming?" 
continued  old  Andrew,  fearfully. 

Ralph  seemed  to  rouse  himself  painfully  from  a  fit 
of  musing.  He  turned  and  wrung  the  hand  of  the 
old  man. 

"They  are  safer  you  say,  Andrew  Morrison  ?  " 

"Awa't  awa'  I  Ralph,  for  your  life!"  repeated- 
Andrew,  in  a  toneof  the  most  impatient  alarm,  for 
the  tramping  came  nearer  and  nearer. 

Ralph's  presence  of  mind  never  forsook  him  in  the 


78  THE   BRITISH   PARTIZAN. 

hour  of  danger,  and  though*  in  the  obstinate  daring 
of  his  nature  he  would  have  faced  a  host,  and  died  to 
serve  the  object  of  his  love,  he  was  clear-sighted 
enough  to  perceive  the  utter  folly,  the  madness  of 
drawing  himself  and  his  friend  into  further  peril. 
Without  more  deliberation  he  sprung  into  his  sad- 
die,  and  motioning  the  astonished  Ferguson  to  do 
the  same,  he  made  for  the  road  they  had  left,  with- 
out trusting  himself  with  even  a  look  at  the  wonder- 
ing girls,  ifut  it  was  too  late — the  Americans  were 
near  enough  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  British  uniforms, 
and  already  a  sharp  report  rang  through  the  woods, 

"  Great  God ! "  exclaimed  Ferguson,  as  his  horse 
fell  under  him  in  the  convulsive  motion  of  death? 
"lam  lost!" 

Ralph  Cornet  looked  behind  him  and  sprang  to 
the  ground. 

u  Here,  Ferguson !  Take  this  horse,  and  fly  for 
your  life!"  said  he. 

"  God  of  Heaven !  "  exclaimed  Ferguson,  passion- 
ately, "  and  leave  you  to  perish?  " 

"  Not  one  word  more,"  said  Ralph,  with  solemn 
earnestness.  "  Fly  !  or  we  are  both  lost;  for  I  swear 
not  to  quit  this  spot  till  you  are  gone  !  Fear  not  for 
me — but  take  care  of  Rover  till  I  see  you." 

Ferguson  looked  vexed  and  puzzled  at  the  stub- 
born resolution  of  Ralph.  But  by  this  time  the 
foremost  man,  who  discharged  his  gun,  was  grap- 
pling with  Ralph,  and  as  Ferguson  saw  him  dash  his 
opponent  to  the  ground. and  fly  through  the  woods, 
he  mounted  that  good  steed,  for  the  others  were  close 


THE   BRITISH   PARTIZAN.  79 

at  his  heels.  Two  men  followed  him,  but  there  were 
few  horses  in  those  days  that  could  compete  with 
Kalph  Cornet's  well-trained  Hover,  and  they  soon 
returned  to  join  the  chase  of  the  other  fugitive. 

Hugh  Bates,  for  it  was  he  whom  Cornet  had  again 
foiled,  sprang  lightly  to  his  feet,  and  his  face  was 
livid  with  rage.  He  grasped  only  the  sword  of 
Kalph  Cornet,  which  he  had  borne  away  in  the 
struggle.  Mounting  his  horse,  he  struck  his  rowels 
into  its  flanks,  and,  with  a  shout  to  his  comrades,  he 
flew  after  his  adversar}'.  Once  they  came  in  sight  of 
him,  and  to  make  "  assurance  doubly  sure,"  every 
gun  was  leveled  and  discharged  ;  but  with  a  bound 
like  the  deer  that  bears  his  death  wound,  Kalph  fled 
with  greater  speed  than  before.  Able  at  any  time, 
on  fair  ground,  to  distance  the  fleetest  runner,  the 
thick  woods  and  broken  country  were  now  an  advan- 
tage to  the  wounded  man.  They  lost  sight  of  him 
altogether,  but  like  blood-hounds  they  followed  on 
that  bloody  track. 

Once  again  they  saw  him  on  the  border  of  a  corn- 
field, and  as  he  turned  to  look  he  staggered.  The 
pursuers  rushed  on  with  a  shout  of  exultation.  But 
when  they  had  struggled  through  the  cane-brake  to 
the  banks  of  the  river,  he  was  nowhere  visible. 
There  were  fresh  tracks  on  the  soft  soil,  and  a  bloody 
glove  lay  close  by  the  edge  of  the  stream.  A  canoe 
was  also  lying  there,  half  buried  in  the  leaves  which 
carpeted  the  surface  of  the  quiet  river,  upon  which 
the  early  sunbeams  were  glancing,  betraying  not  by 


80  TTIE    BRITISH    PARTIZAN. 

a  single  ripple  that  any  object  had  lately  disturbed 
its  tranquility. 

What  a  contrast  was  that  placid  river  to  the  boil- 
ing blood  of  those  hot  pursuers!  But  theirs  were 
not  the  "high  hearts"  to  see  and  feel  its  "eloquence 
and  beauty." 

All  night  long  they  had  ridden  on  the  pursuit,  and 
now,  in  the  fury  of  their  baffled  revenge,  they 
scoured  the  banks  of  the  river.  But  there  was  no 
trace  of  Ralph  Cornet  on  land,  and  supposing  that 
he  might  have  resorted  to  the  stratagem  of  diving, 
they  stationed  themselves  on  each  side  of  the  stream, 
prepared  to  shoot  him  down  as  he  emerged  from  the 
water. 

All  day,  so  bitter  was  their  hatred,  did  they  watch. 
But  night  came,  and  they  departed  sullenly,  to 
spread  the  report  of  his  death.  Arguing  from  the 
impossibility  of  his  having  crossed  the  river  ere  they 
reached  it,  they  believed  that  he  must  have  drowned 
himself  in  a  fit  of  desperation  or  exhaustion ;  and 
for  many  days,  Hugh  Bates,  whose  enmity  reached 
beyond  -the  limits  of  death  itself,  searched  along 
that  river  for  the  body. 

Ferguson,  who  had  arrived  safely,  and  met  his 
company  at  the  appointed  rendezvous,  lingered  a 
day  or  so ;  but  his  emissaries  all  returned  with  the 
story  of  Ralph's  mysterious  disappearance,  and  the 
British  Colonel  led  on  where  his  duty  called  him. 
But  he  reproached  himself  with  the  misfortunes  of 
that  brave,  misguided  youth.  He  did  more — he 
shed  for  him  the  manly  tears  of  sympathy,  for  he 


THE  BRITISH   PAETIZAN.  81 

bad  discovered  the  worth  of  the  noble  heart  which 
he  had  been  instrumental  in  corrupting. 

In  his  own  neighborhood,  Ralph  Cornet's  death 
was  currently  reported,  attended  with  supernatural 
awe  among  the  ignorant  and  superstitious.  Some 
said  that  an  evil  spirit  had  carried  him  off',  and  his 
name  was  used  to  frighten  children.  Bat  there  was 
one  who  heard  these  things  with  indignation.  She 
believed  not  the  tale  of  her  lover's  death;  so  great 
was  her  confidence  in  his  powers,  and  so  easily  can 
the  young  heart  be  illumined  by  the  slightest  ray  of 
hope.  Conviction  only,  feeling,  sensible  conviction 
alone  can  extinguish  it. 

•For  a  length  of  time  Annette  wandered  out  every 
day  alone.  She  shunned  even  the  company  of  Selina 
Andersonv  Something  whispered  to  her  heart  that 
Ralph  was  yet  alive,  that  he  would  seek  an  interview 
with  her.  But  one  da}^  she  came  upon  the  place 
where  he  had  fled  before  his  pursuers  to  the  river. 
The  traces  of  blood  remained  there  still,  and  even 
the  glove  had  not  been  removed. 

These  mournful  tokens  seemed  to  bring  to  the 
mind  of  the  affectionate  girl  the  conviction  she  had 
so  long  shunned,  and  she  sat  down  and  wept  over 
them  in  bitterness  of  soul.  She  forgot  his  errors  and 
his  degradation.  She  thought  of  him  only  as  the 
brave  and  beautiful  boy — the  sweet  companion  of 
her  childhood — as  the  manly  youth — the  elected 
husband  of  her  young  affections.  V\  ho  could  blame 
that  young  girl  if  in  such  a  moment  she  forgot  that 
he  had  been  unfaithful  to  his  country  ? 
H 


CHAPTER  VI. 

"Let  laurels,  drenched  in  Pernassian  dews, 
Reward  his  mem'ry  dear  to  every  muse, 
Who  with  a  courage  of  unshaken  root, 
In  honor's  field  advancing  his  firm  foot, 
Plants  it  upon  the  line  that  justice  draws, 
And  will  proceed  or  perish  in  her  cause." 

"  They  sin  who  tell  us  love  can  die  1" 

Months  rolled  on,  and  nothing  was  heard  of  Ralph 
Cornet.  He  had  ceased  to  be.  classed  among  tile 
living ;  but  his  memory  had  not  passed  away  with 
all.  In  one  heart  the  altar  of  his  worship  was  still 
fed  with  the  daily  sacrifice  of  prayers  ana  tears ;  and 
as  its  fire  burnt  on  in  secret  the  fair  priestess  seemed 
to  become  less  and  less  earthly.  Her  mind,  like  that 
dove  which  hovered  over  the  wide  waste  of  waters, 
found  no  green  leaf  for  a  resting  place  on  earth,  and- 
it  dwelt  among  the  invisible  shadows  of  the  past. 

Yet  Annette  Bruye'sant  refused  to  believe  in  the 
death  of  her  lover.  She  had  not  seen  him  die  ;  and 
in  the  slow,  torturing  fire  of  unlimited  suspense,  her 
once  rosy  cheek  paled,  and  her  rounded  form  became 
every  day  more  and  more  attenuated.and  sylph-like. 

The  spring  was  far  advanced — that  dreadful  spring 
of  1781.  The  tories  who  had  escaped  from  the  fatal 
rencontre  of  King's  Mountain,  had  returned  into  the 
neighborhood,  and  literally  ravaged  it  with  fire  and 


THE  BRITISH  PARTIZAN.  83 

sword.  The  whigs  were  led  on  by  desperation  to 
return  the  aggression,  and  murders  were  committed 
and  revenged,  until  many  of  the  families  of  the- 
whigs,  who  were  far  in  the  minority,  were  left  with- 
out protectors  and  without  food — the  crops  of  the 
last  year  having  .been  destroy  ed^-and  despair  seemed 
to  have  benumbed  the  energies  of  the  wretched  sur- 
vivors. 

At  this  crisis  an  individual  came  to  the  relief  of 
the  suffering  inhabitants,  and  with  a  generous  assi- 
duity, a  self-sacrificing  zeal,  to  which  history  has  not 
and  never  can  do  justice,  he  succored  the  destitute 
women  and  children.  Many  a  "  verdant  offering  to 
his  memory  n  has  been  perpetuated  in  the  children 
of  those  who  felt  his  protecting  benevolence.  This 
man  was  Gen.  Pickens. 

On  the  bank  of-  the  river,*  a  little  apart  from 
Vienna,  may  yet  be  seen  the  remains  of  a  fort  which 
was  built  for  the  defense  of  the  early  settlers  against 
the  Indians.  Its  walls  were  built  of  stone,  and 
formed  ten  feet  high,  with  port-holes  and  other  appli- 
ances of  stout  resistance.  Here  Gen.  Pickens  sup- 
ported his  dependents,  and  old  age  and  infancy 
flocked  daily  to  his  protecting  care.  But  thanks  to 
the  cowardice  of  the  tories,  and  their  successive 
defeats  in  open  combat,  this  weak  garrison  was  in  no 
danger  of  attack.  It  was  more  like  the  residence  of 
a  pleasant  family  than  a  warlike  station ;  and  during 
his  occasional  visits  the  "good  General,"  as  he  was 
affectionately  called,  added  to  the  charm  of  an 
universal  cheerfulness  ;  for  he  was  not  more  eminent 


84  THE   BRITISH   PARTI Z AN. 

for  the  soldier-like  qualities  whiclr  gained  him  the 
distinction  of  an  officer,  than  for  the  gracious  affa- 
bility by  which  he  won  all  hearts. 

The  victory  of  the  Cowpens  had  giv.en  a  breath- 
ing space  to  the  militia  of  the  General's,  brigade. 
Most  of  them  had  returned  on  parole  to  their  fami- 
lies, and  the  General  took  occasion  at  this  time  to 
visit  Fort  Charlotte,  which  was  the  name  given  to 
the  fortress  by  the  loyal  subjects  of  his  Majesty, 
George  the  Third.  * 

The  concentration  of  the  British  on  the  other  side 
of  the  District  lulled  the  inhabitants  into  an  easy 
security,  and  the  fort  was  consequently  under  but 
few  of  the  restraints  which  martial  discipline  imposes. 
General  Pickens  was  walking  one  night  alone  and 
meditatively,  on  the  outer  side  of  the  wall,  when  he 
perceived  the  figure  of  a  man  leaning  against  it,  in 
the  deep  shadow  which  the  dark  trees  opposed  to  the 
moonlight.  Having  hailed  him  several  times  and 
received  no  answer,  the  General  took  a  pistol  from 
his  pocket  and  walked  up  to  the  spot  to  assure  him- 
self that  he  had  not  been  deceived. 

u  Speak,  or  you  are  my  prisoner/'  said  he,  as  he 
approached  the  stranger. 

The  man  made  no  show  of  resistance,  but  as  the 
General  was  about  to  lay  his  hand  on  his  shoulder  he 
retreated  a  few  paces,  and  folding  his  arms  on  his 
breast,  answered  doggedly : 

"  Shoot,  if  you  will.     I  will  be  no  man's  prisoner.'^ 

As  he  stepped  back,  the  moonlight  streamed  clear 
upon  a  majestic  form,  and  showed  the  bold  outline 


THE  BRITISH   PARTIZAN.  85 

4 

of  a  countenance  which  looked  pale  and  melancholy, 
in  that  pensive  light. 

General  Pickens  looked  at  him  a  few  moments  in 
silence.  The  subdued  and  sad  expression  of  his 
features  and. attitude  seemed  to  have  awakened  in 
his  heart  some  feeling  of  commiseration  for  the 
youthful  and  apparently  unhappy  stranger. 

"Young  man,"  said  he,  in  a  softened  tone,  "who- 
ever you  are,  or  whatever  may  be  your  business 
here,  it  is  my  duty  to  have  you  arrested,  but  it 
would  be  more  congenial  to  my  feelings  if  you 
would  spare  me  that  trouble,  by  telling  me  frankly 
your  name  and  intentions." 

"  My  name  can  interest  no  one,"  said  the  man,  in 
the  same  tone  in  which  he  had  at  first  spoken,  "and 
I  have  no  business  except  to  seek  one  who  has  been 
long  lost  to  me." 

"  You  speak  haughtily,  sir,"  replied  the  General. 
"Have  you  then  no  interest  in  making  friends? 
Know  you  not  that  you  are  at  this  moment  in  my 
power  ?  " 

"Friends!  "  repeated  the  other  with  sad  emphasis. 
"  I  care  not  for  friends,  since  I  cannot  call  back  the 
lost.  I  am  alone  in  this  world.  As  to  the  rest  I 
defy  even  the  power  of  General  Pickens!" 

"  Ila !  "  said  the  General,  "you  know  me  then?  " 
and  for  a  moment  he  cast  his  eyes  in  deep  thought  to 
the  ground.  When  he  looked  up,  the  mysterious 
stranger  was  gone. 

This  little  incident  dwelt  in  the  mind  of  the  Gen- 
eral. His  feelings  had  been  strangely  interested  by 
H* 


86  THE   BRITISH    PARTIZA2T. 

the  appearance  and  language  of  the  unknown  ;  but 
he  imagined  that  he  must  have  some  evil  design  in 
lurking  round-  the  fort.  Why  else  should  he  be  so 
mysterious?  Perhaps  he  was  a  spy  sent  by  some 
foraging  party  of  British,  who  supposed  that  the, 
stores  of  the  fort  might  become  an  easy  prey.  At 
this  last  thought,  General  Pickens  determined  to 
place  a  stricter  guard,  and  immediately  sent  out  a 
body  of  men  to  scour  the  neighborhood.  But  they 
returned  with  the  intelligence  that  not  a  single  person 
had  been  found  stirring  within  a  mile  of  the  Tort. 

It  was  a  custom  of  General  Pickens  to  make  a 
circuit  of  the  fortress  every  morning,  to  look  into 
its  welfare  and  attend  to  its  little  wants  and  necessi- 
ties. At  such  times  he  had  a  smile  and  a  passing 
word  for  every  one. 

"How  goes  it,  Andrew,  this  fine  morning?"  he 
enquired  of  an  old  man,  whose  silver  locks  still  curled 
up  from  the  broad  fair  forehead,  which  a  serene 
temper  and  healthful  exercise  had  kept  smooth  and 
unwrinkled. 

"Vera  weel,  yer  honor,"  said  he.  "  Gaid  be 
praised  for  a'  His  mercies,  and  thanks  to  yer  honor 
besides !  Yer  kind  heart  has  been  a  blessin'  to  this 
country,  an' " 

"Well,  Andrew,"  interrupted  the  General,  smiling 
at  the  grateful  garrulity  of  the  old  Scotchman.  "  No 
flatteries  between  friends.  It  is  the  cause — the  cause. 
The  meanest  soldier  that  fights  for  liberty  deserves 
the  same  praise." 

"  Na,  na,  yer  honor,"  said  the  old  man.     "  It's  na 


THE   BRITISH   PARTIZAN.  87 

that  ye  fight  for  liberty  sae  weel,  but  that  ye  pity 
the  puir." 

"  Every  man  should  do  the  same,"  said  the  Gene- 
ral. "  It  is  bad  enough  fighting,  but  it  must  be 
worse  starving.  And  now  that  I  think  of  it,  An- 
drew," he  continued,  "  I  would  advise  a  stricter  watch 
kept  over*  this  place.  I  must  go  hence  to-morrow  ; 
my  presence  is  required  before  Ninety-six,  and  I  can 
leave  but  a  small  garrison.  You  have  only  to  keep 
close  and  be  on  the  alert.  There  may  be  no  harm 
meant,  but  I  saw  a  very  suspicious  looking  man 
prying  round  these  walls  last  night,  who  answered 
me  very  haughtily,,  and  refused' to  tell  his  business." 

u  Lord  bless  yer  honor,  what  kind  a'  mon  was 
he  ?  "  asked  Andrew  Morrison. 

"  lie  was  tall  and  good  looking  as  far  as  I  could 
judge,"  said  the  General,  "  but  his  manner  was  proud 
and  melancholy,  and  he  disappeared  very  suddenly, 
I  sent  out  men  immediately  in  pursuit  of  him,  but — " 

"  Heaven  defend  us  !  "  exclaimed  the  old  man  in 
a  low  and  rapid  enunciation.  "Belike  it  was  Ralph 
Cornet,  or  aiblins  his  ghaist  I " 

The  General  was  not  superstitious,  but  he  seemed 
struck  with  a  new  thought !  " 

"Cornet!"  said  he.  "What I  that  Capt.  Cornet, 
who  rendered  himself  so  famous  among  the  British? 
I  thought  he  was  killed  or  drowned  in  this  neigh- 
borhood some  time  ago." 

"  It  was  believed  sae,  yer  honor,"  said  Andrew, 
"  but  I  carina  think  sae.  Why  he  was  lil^e  a  wild 
duke  in  the  water,  because,  yer  honor,,  if  he  gacd 


88  THE  BRITISH  PARTIZAN. 

never  sae  monj  times  to  the  bottom,  he  aye  came  up 
alive  and  weel.  But  if  the  puir  boy  be  dead,  I  ken 
weel  his  ghaist  wad  be  haunting  this  place  for " 

"  You  say  this  Cornet  is  a  comely  person  ?  "  said 
the  General,  interrupting  this  speech  with  an  irre- 
pressible smile  at  the  old  man's  simplicity. 

"  A  braw,  handsome  lad,  as  yer  honor  ever  saw," 
replied  the  Scotchman,  who  was  delighted  at  this 
opportunity  of  speaking  the  praise  of  one  for 
whom  his  heart  overflowed  with  love  and  pity — 
"  yist  like  a  young  poplar,  fu'  sax  feet  high,  and 
portly.  There  was  nae  the  lad  in  a'  the  country  sae 
Strang,  sae  bonnie,  or  sae  kind  as  the  young  Ralph. 
Wae's  the  day  when  the  British  blinded  his  young 
e'en  wi'  a  sword  and  plume.  He  has  been  soor  and 
mournfu'  like  ever  since ;  for  he  had  plighted  his 
troth  wi'  a  sonsie  young  leddie  here,  an'  her  father, 
wha  has  been  sinking  to  the  grund  ever  since  the 
tories — fuil  fa'  them — brak  his  arm,  winna  hear  o' 
the  match." 

"Who?  the  old  Frenchman's  daughter?  Ah!  I 
see  it  all  now,"  said  the  General  musingly. 

"What  is't  your  honor  sees?  "  inquired  Andrew 
respectfully. 

"  Why,  Andrew,  the  man  that  I  saw  last  night 
must  have  been  this  same  Cornet,  from  your  descrip- 
tion. I  took  him  for  a  spy.  But  it  is  likely  that  his 
ghost,  as  you  will  have  it,  was  seeking  an  interview 
with  this  young  lady." 

"  Like  eneugh !  like  eneugh  !  "  said  the  old  man 


THE   BRITISH   PARTIZAN".  89 

eagerly.     "The  puir  boy,  dead  or  alive,  would  rin 
a'  risks  to  catch  a  glint  or  her  bonny  e'en." 

"I  must  look  to  it,"  said  the  General  as  be  walked  on. 

"  And  sae  rnaun  I,"  said  the  Scotchman  to  him- 
self. "  If  the  puir  boy  hae  escaped  ance  mair,  it 
maunna  be  tauld  that  the  bairn  o'  my  auld  freind 
has  na  ane  freind  in  a'  this  land.'7 

As  the  General  passed  on  he  next  entered  a  tent 
in  which  was  sitting  a  lady,  yet  in  the  bloom,  of  life, 
whose  vivacity  of  manner  betokened  a  spirit  which 
no  misfortunes  could  conquer.  She  was  caressing  a 
little  boy  of  five  or  six  years,  whose  brown,  curling 
head  lay  on  her  lap,  while  at  her  feet  a  little  cherub 
girl  was  lying  asleep.  As  the  happy  mother  looked 
up  smiling  from  her  babies,  her  radiant  face  afforded 
a  striking  contrast  to  the  thin  pale  features  of  a 
young  girl  who  sat  not  far  off,  with  her  head  leaning 
on  her  hand. 

"  Good  morning,  madam,"  said  the  General,  pleas- 
antly, addressing  himself  to  the  elder  lady.  "  Your 
countenance  is  truly  agreeable  in  these  gloomy  times. 
It  is  always  sunshine."' 

"  Why,  General,"  said  she,  with  perfect  ease  and 
good  breeding,  "  thanks  to  your  care  and  that  of  the 
tories,  Fve  nothing  left  to  cry  for.  My  husband — 
God  bless  him — is  fighting  in  the  true  cause,  and  if 
I  had  a  dozen  husbands,  I  should  wish  them  all  so 
employed." 

"But  suppose  they  were  all  killed?"  said  the 
General,  with  a  wondering  smile. 

"  Then   I  should   teach  mv  little  Willie  here  his 


90  THE   BRITISH   PARTIZAN. 

duty  to  the  British,"  said  she,  twining  her  fingers  in 
the  long  silken  curls  of  the  pretty  boy. 

"Well,"  replied  the  General,  "with  many  such 
mothers  as  you  America  would  become  another 
Sparta.  But  can't  you  inspire  my  little  friend  here 
with  some  of  your  heroism  ?  " 

"  Bless  you,  no,"  said  the  lady,  with  privileged 
sauciness.  "She  is  as  mopish  as  an  old  owl  in-  a 
hollow  tree.  There  she  has  been  sitting  for  the  last 
half  hour,  poring  over  a  lock  of  hair  which  she 
found  by  the  wall,  very  curiously  wound — into  a 
love  knot,  I  suppose — Heaven  knows  how  it  came 
there.  But,  General,  I  have  been  planning  an  excur- 
sion to  amuse  these  sentimental  young  ladies." 

"  I  should  rather  you  would  not  go  out,"  said  the 
General.  "  There  was  a  strange  man  prowling  about 
here  last  night,  and " 

As  the  General  commenced  speaking  he  had  fixed 
his  eyes  with  an  expression  of  curiosity  on  Annette 
Bruyesant,  who  sat  seemingly  regardless  of  what 
was  passing,  but  he  stopped  short,  alarmed  at  the 
deep  emotions  his  words  had  excited  in  her.  The 
blood  seemed  to  have  forsaken  her  fair  face,  and 
every  blue  vein  was  plainly  marked  in  her  closed 
eyelids  as  she  sank  back  in  her  seat,  with  her  arms 
clasped  tightly  together. 

Her  white  lips  moved  unconsciously,  and  the  words, 
"It  is  he!  it  is  he!"  though  murmured  passion- 
ately, were  rather  read  than  heard  by  the  General. 

A  frown  passed  over  his  countenance,  but  it  was 


THE   BRITISH   PARTIZAN.  91 

quickly  succeeded  by  an  expression  of  pity,  and 
turning  to  the  elder  lady,  he  observed : 

"  I  shall  be  obliged  to  leave  the  fort  to-morrow, 
and  I  would  advise  you  ladies  to  keep  as  close  as 
possible  during  my  absence." 

The  lady"  he  addressed  would  have  demurred  to 
this,  but  the  General  asked  to  be  admitted  to  the 
presence  of  old  Mr.  Bruyesant,  who  was  confined  to 
an  inner  part  of  the  tent.  What  passed  between 
them  was  never  known. 

General  Pickens  departed  next  morning,  leaving 
orders  with  the  small  garrison,,  which  remained  for 
its  protection,  that  no  one  should  leave  the  fort 
except  on  business,  and  that  no  stranger  should  be 
admitted.  But  who,  by  arbitrary  measures,  ever 
forced  a  woman  into  a  sense  of  her  duty.  Ere  three 
days  had  elapsed,  the  gay  Mrs.  Cornet  had  rebelled 
against  the  orders  of  the  General. 

u  Come,,  girls,"  said  she,  one  fine  evening  u  let 
us  play  them  a  trick!  I'm  sick  to  death  of  this 
dull  place,  and  despite  the  old  General  and  his  ghost 
story,  what  say  you  to  a  little  fun  ?  Eh,  Lina,  what 
say  you  to  a  raid  on  the  river  now  ?  Annie,  I  must 
give  you  a  little  fresh  air,  or  a  certain  some  one  that 
shall  be  nameless  will  not  know  you  when  he  returns 
from  the  war." 

"  But  how  shall  we  escape?"  asked  Selina  Ander- 
son, looking  up  listlessly  from  her  sewing  work. 

"  Oh,  ho  !  leave  that  to  me,"  said  the  lively  crea- 
ture, with  a  significant  nod,  as  she  tripped  off  towards 


92  THE   BRITISH   PARTIZAN. 

the  gate,  where  a  soldier  stood,  true  to  the  orders  he 
had  received. 

Annette  and  Selina  were  well  acquainted  with  the 
mischievous  tricks  of  this  lady,  but  whilst  they  stood 
now  wondering  what  she  would  devise  to  amuse  the 
vigilance  of  the  gate  keeper,  she  had  walked  up  and 
was  screaming  in  the  ears  of  the  man  with  a  tone  of 
well  affected  surprise — 

"  Mr.  Dobson,  are  you  deaf?" 

"  Madam  1"  said  the  little  .man,  staring  at  her  in 
amazement. 

"I  say,  are  you  deaf,  that  you  stand  here  so 
unconcerned,  when  your  wife  has  been  calling  you 
for  the  last  half  hour  ?  Run,  for  pity's  sake,"  .con- 
tinued she  with  the  deepest  concern,  tl  I  would  not, 
for  the  world,  be  in  your  place.  You  know  Mrs. 
Dobson." 

"  I  didn't  hear  it,  ma'am !  "  said  poor  Mr.  Dobson, 
who  first  fidgeted  a  little  uneasily,  and  then  ran  with 
all  his  speed  to  a  tent  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
enclosure.  Besides  the  tories,  there  was  nothing  on 
earth  the  poor  little  man  had  so  good  reason  to  fear 
as  his  wife. 

The  gate  had  been  opened  to  fill  a  provision  cart, 
which  now  half  filled  the  entrance. 

"  Quick,  quick,  girls!  follow  me!  "  said  the  lady, 
who  was  almost  dying  with  laughter  at  the  success  of 
her  scheme. 

In  a  moment  more  they  had  all  glided  through  the 
opening  unperceived.;  and  the  girls  ran  on  following 


THE   BRITISH   PARTIZAN.  93 

their  gay  guide,  until  she  threw  herself  on  the  grassy 
bank  of  the  river,  in  a  perfect  helplessness  of  mirth. 

"Fie,  Mrs.  Cornet,"  said  Selin a  Anderson  gravely, 
"  how  could  you  be  so  wicked  ?  " 

"  Heavens!  what  a  little  fool  you  are,  Lina;  you 
will  never  do  for  a  warrior's  wife,"  she  replied. 

Selina  blushed  and  turned  away  her  head. 

"  Bless  your  heart,  child,  don't  you  know  { all  tricks 
are  fair,  in  love  and  in  war?'  But  then,  poor  Mr. 
Dobson!"  she  continued,  "  how  he  will  fret  and 
fume  when  he  find's  out  that  he  has  been  quizzed. 
But  no  matter ;  if  the  little  man  is  hen-pecked,  sure  it's 
not  my  fault.  And,  Willie,  you  are  here,  too,  my 
little  General,"  said  she,  on  perceiving  that  the  child 
had  followed  them.  a  If  you  don't  mind  we'll  give 
you  a  ducking,  my  boy." 

"You  can't  do  it,"  said  the  child  saucily.  "Pa 
learnt  me  how  to  swim,  and  uncle  Ralph  used  to 
throw  me  in  the  water  sometimes." 

"Hush,  child,"  said  his  mother,  in  a  low  voice, 
aside  to  him.  "  Didn't  I  tell  you  not  to  talk  of  your 
uncle  Ralph  ?  " 

"  I  don't  care,"  replied  the  boy,  with  a  grieved 
expression  of  countenance.  "  Annie  Bruye*sant  says 
I  may  talk  of  him." 

Annette  turned  deprecatingly,  and  took  the  lovely 
child  in  her  arms  as  if  to  hush  him;  but  in  spite  of 
her  efforts  the  silent  tears  trickled  down  on  his 
young  head,  to  which  her  cheek  was  pressed. 

With  all  her  vivacity,  Mrs.  Cornet  had  too  much 
real  feeling  not  to  understand  and  appreciate  that 
I 


.94  THE   BRITISH   PARTIZAW. 

emotion.  But  it  was  her  nature  to  banish  care,  and 
now  springing  up  from  the  bank  on  which  she  had 
been  seated,  she  ordered  the  girls  into  a  canoe  that 
was  lying  there,  and  springing  in  herself  after  them, 
pushed  it  off  into  the  stream. 

A  wild  and  frolicksome  creature  was  that  Mrs. 
Cornet.  She  cared  not-at  what  expense  she  fol- 
lowed the  bent  of  her  fancy,  and  all  difficulties  were 
but  trifles  before  the  vigorous  impulses  of  her  lively 
and  independent  spirit.  As  she  sat  in  the  stern  of 
that  little  vessel  and  propelled  its  light  motion  by  a 
scarcely  visible  effort,  with  those  two  beautiful  maid- 
ens at  her  feet,  and  the  little  cherub  boy  leaning  over 
the  vessel's  side,  she  might  have  passed  for  Amphi- 
trite  in  her  ocean  shell.  On,  ion,  they  flew,  and  her 
clear  musical  laugh  rang  over  the  waters  like  the 
touch  of  some  fine  instrument,  redoubled  and  reflected 
in  mocking  silvery  tones  from  those  fancied  water 
nymphs,  the  invisible  echoes.  At  length  the  light 
bark  moored  itself  on  the  point  of  a  rock  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  stream.  In  a  moment  more  the  delighted 
Mrs.  Cornet  had  gained  the  flat 'summit  of  the  rock, 
and  gaily  invited  her  less  ardent  companions  to 
follow. 

It  was,  indeed,  a  beautiful  position,  and  well  wor- 
thy of  an  evening's  frolic.  For  many  miles  above, 
the  broad  bosom  of  the  river  swelled  on  the  eye,, 
until  it&wept  down  and  divided  its  chrystal  waters 
against  the  rocky  base  of  the  island.  Not  a  speck 
or  stain  marred  the  bright  reflection  of  the  pure 
spring-time  sky.     The  blessed  sun  only  was  there, 


THE   BRITISH  PARTISAN  05" 

"  careering  in  its  fields  of  light,"  and  throwing  its 
myriads  of  diamond  sparkles  on  the  rippling  water. 
The  blue  rocks  which  covered  nearly  one-half  the 
extent  of  the  island,  and  dotted  the  stream  on  each 
side,  were  strewed  with  mosses  and  the  lovely  flow- 
ers of  a  thousand  little  twining,  fibrous  roots,  whilst 
behind  them  rose  a  thicket  of  all  that  is  sweet  and 
fair  in  the  American  forest.     There  were  the  lovely • 
jessamines  and  woodbines  in  clustering  garlands  over.^ 
every  tree  and  bush.     The  queenly  flowers  of  the- 
rose  laurel,  sitting  so  proudly  on  their  emerald  stem sr 

the  beautiful  white  acacia,  and  the  long  featl  °^rjen~ 

1    - 
dants  of  the  gray  ash,  with  the  sweet  wild  nSney- 

suckle  in  its  delicious  freshness,  were  there,  forming 
a  wilderness  such  as  Eden  must  have  been  in  its 
first  creation. 

Mrs.  Cornet  felt  all  the  wild  delight  of  a  native 
child  of  the  forest  newly  enfranchised,  and  even  her- 
young  companions  forgot  the  subject  of  their  grief 
for  a  time.  The  heart  must  be,  indeed  cold  and 
callous,  in  which  the  freshness  and  beauty  of  nature 
cannot  awaken  a  corresponding,  tone  of  gladness. 
With  smiles  half  of  pleasure  and  half  of  wonder, 
Annette  and  Selina  watched  the  motions-  of  their 
sportive  guide  as  §he  leaped  like  a  chamois  over  trie' 
rocks,  .now  bending  from  a  high  point  over  the 
glassy  stream,  and  again  leaning  most  perilously 
from  a  bow  to  gather  flowers.  After  a  time  she  stole 
away  unperccived,  and  when  they  looked,  on  hear- 
ing her  gay  voice,  they  beheld  her  apparently  cling- 
ing to  a  rich  garland  of  jessamine,  which  hung  from 


96  THE  BRITISH   PARTIZAK. 

the  branches  of  a  large  oak,  far  in  the  midst  of  the 
island.  The  girls  screamed  involuntarily  with  sur- 
prise. How  had  she  got  there,  unless  she  had  the 
wings  of  a  fairy  ? 

The  island  was,  to  all  appearances,  perfectly  unfre- 
quented. Not  a  pathway,  not  a  broken  bush,  not 
even  a  footstep,  marked  the  place  where  any  living 
thing  had  penetrated.  The  luxuriant  canes  filled  up 
the  interstices  of  the  giant  trees  and  flowering  shrubs, 
rendering  it  all  dark  and  inaccessible.  But  there  she 
stood,  with  the  flowers  clustering  around  her  face, 
which^fy  *bed  with  exercise  and  brilliant  with  excite- 
ment, idoked  the  fairest  flower  there. 

The  mystery  was  soon  explained.  The  trunk  of 
a  large  tree  had  fallen  across  another,  supporting  its 
farthest  end  on  the  edge  of  the  rock,  and  thus 
forming  a  kind  of  natural  bridge  over  the  tangled 
maze  below.  The  young  ladies  proceeded  along  it 
■  to  where  Mrs.  Cornet  stood  at  its  extremity ;  but 
scarcely  had  Annette,  who  was  foremost,  reached 
her,  than  she  turned  deadly  pale,  and  her  eyes  seemed 
riveted  in  the  glassy  gaze  of  horror  on  some  object 
before  her.  She  would  have  fallen  to  the  ground,  if 
Mrs.  Cornet  had  not  caught  her  and  supported  her 
against  the  tree  by  which  she  was  leaning. 

"  Lord  have  mercy  on  us ! "  she  exclaimed. 
"  What  is  the  matter  with  the  child  ?" 

Selina  Anderson,  who  was  too  much  terrified  to 
discover  the  cause  of  Annette's  alarm,  began  to  weep 
with  affright.  But  the  little  boy,  seizing  his  mother 
by  the  dress,  exclaimed  with  delightful  eagerness : 


THE    BRITISH   PARTIZAN.  97 

"  La,  ma  !  here's  Rover !     Ma,  do  look  at  Rover!  " 

Following  the  direction  of  the  child's  eyes-,  they 
saw  a  large  black  horse  rising  slowly  from  the  ground. 
The  canes  and  shrubs  for  a  small  space  around  him 
had  been  trodden  down,  and  the  ground  was  pawed 
into  holes  in  many  places.  How  he  came  there  was 
a  mystery ;  for  there  were  no  marks  of  ingress  or 
egress,  but  a  trough  was  fastened  to  a  tree,  where  it 
was  evident  he  had  been  fed  for  some  time. 

"  Gracious,  heavens !  Can  it  indeed  be  Eover? 
What  then  has  become  of  poor  Ralph  ?  Or  may- 
be he  is  about  here,"  said  Mrs.  Cornet,  looking 
round  a  little  wildly. 

At  the  mention  of  that  name  so  fraught  with  ter- 
rible remembrance,  an  undefined  awe  seized  the 
minds  of  the  adventurous  females.  They  clung 
closer  together,  seeming  for  the  first  time  to*  feel  alone 
in  that  unfrequented  place. 

"Let  us  go  from  here,"  whispered  Annette  faintly. 

But  before  they  turned  to  depart,,  Mrs.  Cornet,  to 
assure  herself  that  it  was  indeed  the  horse  of  her 
husband's  ill-fated  brother,  called  him  by  name,  and 
the  animal,  familiar  to  the  sound  of  her  voice,  walked 
up  to  her  and  evinced  his  recognition  of  her  by 
many  mute  but  intelligible  signs  of  joy. 

A  musing  spirit  seemed  to  have  seized  Mrs.  Cor- 
net.  She  left  her  store  of  gathered  flowers  to  wither 
on  the  rock,  and  resumed  her  station  in  the  canoe  in 
silence.     At  length  she  said,  almost  unconsciously  : 

"If  Ralph  Cornet  is  about  here  we  shall  soon  see 

L* 


96  THE  BRITISH   PARTIZAN, 

him.     But  then,"  she  continued,  "  the  horse  seems- 
to  have  been  a  long  time  on  the  island." 

For  the  first  time  in  her  life  she  appeared  to  be 
puzzled,  and  she  said  no  more. 

A  sigh  from  Annette  was  the  only  answer  she 
received.  That  speech  had  aroused  the  poor  girl 
from  similar  thoughts.  They  returned  in  perfect 
silence  to  the  fort,  for  Selina  Anderson  had  not  suffi- 
ciently recovered  from  her  fright  to  be  conversable, 
and  the  little  boy  had  cried  himself  to  sleep  on  his 
mother's  lap  at  the  thought  of  leaving  his  favorite 
Kover  behind. 

Mr.  Dobson,  the  much  abused  gate  keeper,  whose 
goodness  merited  better  treatment  than  he  received, 
admitted  them  with  perfect  good  humor ;  for  he  had 
learnt  a  very  sad  lesson  of  forced  submission  to  a 
woman.  But  the  little  man  resolved  in  his  inmost 
heart  to  be  fast  enough  for  them  next  time. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

"  How  dear  the  dream  in  darkest  hour  of  ill, 
Should  all  be  changed,  to  find  thee  faithful  still  j 
Be  but  thy  heart  like  Sclim's  firmly  shown, 
To  thee  be  Selim's  tender  as  thine  own, 
To  soothe  each  sorrow,  share  in  each  delight, 
Blend  every  thought — do  all  but  disunite." 

It  had  become  a  settled  conviction  in  the  mind  of 
Annette  that  Ralph  Cornet  was  still  living.  In  the 
lock  of  hair  found  within  the  wall,  she  recognized 
some  of  her  own  which  had  once  been  in  his  posses- 
sion, and  this  circumstance,  connected  with  the  words 
which  General  Pickens  had  spoken  in  her  presence, 
confirmed  in  her  the  suspicion  that  Ralph  had  em- 
ployed this  as  a  certain  and  plain  telegraph  to  her 
heart.  The  discovery  of  his  horse  awakened  her  to 
the  keenest  and  most  distressing  suspense.  The 
reflection  that  he  was  in  the  neighborhood, ,  and 
obliged  to  conceal  himself  in  the  midst  of  dangers, 
was  rendered  still  bitterer  by  the  thought  that  he  had 
not  a  single  being  on  whom  to  rely  for  comfort;  for 
his  father  had  been  killed  by  the  tories  long  since. 
In  this  desolate  situation,  she,  too,  had  apparently 
deserted  him ;  and  the  affectionate  girl  felt  that  it 
would  be  some  consolation  if  she  could  only  see  him 
and  assure  him  of  the  violence  her  coldness  had  done 
to  her  feelings.  But  after  that  wild  sally  from  the 
fort,  the  garrison  was  proof  against  the  stratagems  or 


100  THE   BRITISH    PARTIZAN. 

entreaties  of  the  ladies,  and  Annette  despaired  of 
seeing  the  object  of  her  solicitude. 
*  Fate  was,  however,  accomplishing  her  wishes  by 
the  severest  test  of  her  affections.  In  a  few  weeks  a 
funeral  procession  emerged,  from  the  fort,  and  Annette 
followed  as  chief  mourner  that  humble  coffin.  Her 
father  had  never  recovered  from  his  first  attack. 
Besides  the  wound  in  his  arm  he  had  received  an 
injury  in  the  chest,  which  brought  on  a  pulmonary 
affection,  and  he  declined  gradually — so  gradually 
that  no  alarm  was  conveved  to  the  heart  of  Annette 
until  near  the  last  moments. 

Nearly  the  whole  garrison  followed  the  remains  of 
Pierre  Bruyesant,  that  humble  but  devout  supporter 
of  truth  ancl  liberty,  to  the  grave.  He  was  buried, 
according  to  his  own  request,  under  an  elm  tree 
near  his  cottage.  The  last  sod  was  replaced  over  the 
spot  where  the  grassy  turf  had  been  disturbed,  and 
the  procession  moved  back  to  the  fort  \  but  Annette 
could  not  be  torn  away. 

"  Leave  me  for  a  moment  alone  with  him,"  she 
begged,  and  there  were  none  hard  hearted  enough 

IT 

to  refuse  that  sacred  request. 

When  they  had  all  gone,  Annette  threw  herself 
on  the  newly  made  grave,  in  that  agony  of  a  young 
spirit  when  first  it  feels  alone  and  desolate.  In  all 
the  world  she  knew  not  of  one  being  who  shared 
the  blood  of  hqr  veins. 

"  None  that  with  kindred  consciousness  endued* 

If  she  were  hot,  would  seem  to  smile  the  le83.'' 

And  she   sobbed   aloud   the  endearing  name  of 


THE   BRITISH  PARTIZAN.  101 

father,  in  the  despairing  accents  of  the  shipwrecked 
mariner  who  sees  his  last  hope,  the  shattered  plank 
on  which  he  had  borne  himself,  sink  down  beneath 
the  wave.  How  long  she  remained  thus  insensible 
to  all  but  the  weight  of  her  afflictions,  she  knew  "not, 
nor  was  she  aware  that  the  child  of  Mrs.  Cornet  had 
lingered  with  a  kindly  instinct  near  her,,  until  he 
clung  to  her,  screaming  with  affright. 

Aroused  by  the  cries  of  the  child,  Annette  raised 
herself,  and  as  she  looked  up  she  saw  the  object  of 
her  alarm  in  a  man  who  was  standing  within  three 
feet  of  them.  It  was  Ralph  Cornet,  but  so  pale,  so 
wan,  so  different  from  his  former  self,  that  it  was  no 
wonder  the  little  boy  did  not  recognize  him.  He 
was  dressed,  plainly  in  a  suit  of  dark  cloth,  which 
rendered  almost  ghostly  the  expression  of  his  pale, 
sad  countenance,  and  a  frightful  scar  extended  over 
his  left  eyebrow. 

The  surprise,  the  shock  of  his  appearance,  was  too 
much  for  the  weakened  nerves  of  the  poor  girl,  and' 
she  would  have  fallen  again  to  the  ground  if  she 
had  not  been  caught  in  the  arms  of  her  lover. 

How  wildly  did  he  call  upon  her  to  look  upon  him 
once  more — and  how  passionately  did. he  kiss  the 
pale  face  which  hung  like  a  drooping  flower  on  his 
arm !  But  the  warm  blood  soon  flowed  back  in 
fitful  gushes  to  her  cheek,  and  her  eyes  opened  upon 
him ;  but  she  did  not  this  time  withdraw  herself 
from  his  embrace.  Her  mind  was  impaired  by  grief 
and  long  suffering — she  had  no  more  the  power  of 
resistance  ;    and  besides,  in  the  heart-weary  loncli- 


102  THE   BRITISH   PARTIZAIT. 

ness  of  her  situation,  she  felt  that  the  breast  on 
which  she  leaned  was  the  onlj  link  that  bound  her 
to  the  dear  memories  of  the  past.  Who  so  well 
could  sympathise  with  her  in  her  joy's  decline  as  he 
who  by  the  sweet  enchantment  of  his  presence  had 
given  them  their  gladness  ? 

But  while  Annette,  with  woman's  natural  faith- 
fulness to  her  hallowed  memories,  fondly  reflected 
on  the  past,  Ralph  Cornet  thought  only  of  the 
future ;  and  as  he  recounted  to  her  the  series  of  mis- 
fortunes which  had  befallen  him,  while  her  head 
rested  quietly  on  bis  shoulder,  he  felt  "  the  rapture 
which  kindles  out  of  woe." 

The  tones  of  his  voice  were  like  a  delicious  strain 
of  music  to  Annette — music  long  and  well  remem- 
bered. It  is  true  they  had  lost  the  lingering  joyous- 
ness  of  other  and  better  days,  but  they  had  now  the 
subdued  and  yearning  tenderness  which  sorrow 
wrings  from  the  heart.  Strange  it  is  that  its  pure 
worth  is  never  known  until  tried  in  the  fire  of  afflic- 
tion !  The- gay  know  not  the  wealth  of  their  affec- 
tions, or  the  touching  softness,  the  fervor,  the  fidelity 
which  spring  up  from  the  bruised  heart ;  for  passion 
is  the  rebel  offspring  of  disappointment. 

"  And  now,  my  darling  Annie, "  continued 
Ralph  Cornet — in  a  voice  which  came,  '  o'er  her  ear 
like  the  sweet  South  wind  which  breathes  upon  a 
bank  of  violets' — "we  are  alone  in  this  world;  why 
should  we  be  separated  more  ?  It  is  true,  as  you 
foretold  me,  I  am  a  dishonored  man,  feared  and  des- 
pised by  my  countrymen.     Yet  for  all  that  I  care 


THE  BRITISH   PARTIZAN.  103 

not/ since  you  do  not  hate  me  I  It  has  been  the 
consequence  of  my  early  errors,  and  I  am  not  a  man 
to  weep  idly  over  what  is  past.  But,  my  own  love, 
though  there  is  no  longer  a  place  of  peace  and  safety 
for  us  here,  we  need  not  despair.  In  the  distant 
regions  of  the  far  West,  I  have  heard  them  say  there 
are  lands  richer  far  than  this,  and  spots  more  beauti- 
ful, where  the  Indian  lives  all  the  year  round  with- 
out toil  or  trouble,  with  his  feathery  bow  and  his  low- 
ing herds.  There,  by  some  pretty  stream,  we  will  build 
•a  little  cottage  which  shall  remind  us  of  this,  and 
there  we  will  be  all  the  world  to  each  other." 

Annette  wept  on  in  silence.  Her  griefs  were  too 
fresh  and  strong,  and  disappointment  had  weighed 
too  heavily  on  her  mind  for  her  to  be  able  yet  to 
realise  the  bright  creations  of  this  day-dream. 
Ralph,  who  in  the  elastic  buoyancy  which  love  had 
imparted  to  his  mind,  felt  the  springing  hopes  which 
he  so  vividly  pictured,  seemed  hurt  that  she  did 
not  participate  in  them. 

11  You  do  not  speak,  Annette ;  you  do  not  say  that 
you  will  go  with  me,"  said  he,  mournfully.  u  Sure- 
ly I  have  not  deceived  myself  in  the  dear  hope  that 
when  the  world  grew  dark  around  me,  and  every 
face  was  averted  from  me,  there  would  be  one  heart 
unchanged,  one  smile,  which  shining  as  a  beacon  of 
hope,  would  lead  me  back  to  the  peace  and  happi- 
ness I  had  lost'i 

Annette  raised  her  head  and  looked  up  in  his  face. 
The  flush  which  excitement  had  brought  into  his 
cheeks,  was  fading  away  before  the  deeply  mournful 


104  THE  BRITISH  PARTIZAN. 

expression  of  his  thoughts,  and  she  felt  pained  at  the 
memory  of  all  her  coldness  must  have  wrought  on 
his  sensitive  souL 

"  Ralph  Cornet,  yon  have  sworn  never  more  to 
take  up  arms  against  your  country  ?"  she  asked 
eagerly. 

"  Never,  my  love,  so  help  me  God,  except  in  my 
own  defence !  "  he  replied. 

"Then,"  said  she,  "here  on  this  sacred  altar,  I 
renew  my  former  vow  to  be  unto  you  what  I  have 
ever  been,  true  in  heart ;  to  leave  all,  yes,  even  this 
precious  spot  of  earth;  to  follow " 

Sobs  choked  her  utterance,  and  as  the  young  man 
knelt  and  folded  his  arms  around  her,  tears  came  into 
his  own  eyes — tears  of  sublime  emotion. 

"  It  is  enough,"  he  whispered.  "  My  own  love. 
You  are  what  I  always  thought  you,  the  truest  and 
best  of  womankind.  It  is  true  I  once  feared  that 
you  had  permitted  those  around  you  to  estrange 
your  affections  from  me.  But  forgive  me,  love — I 
suffered  enough  for  that  thought." 

Ralph  went  on  again  to  picture  the  bright  hopes 
which  he  had  imagined  of  an  elysium  in  another 
land,  where  malice  and  treachery  could  not  reach 
them,  and  where  without  any  law  but  nature,  or 
other  guide  than  love,  they  should  enjoy  the  ease 
and  happiness  of  the  primitive  inhabitants  of  earth. 

"  Why  should  we  wait  any  longer  ? "  said  he. 
"  We  have  nothing  left  to  bind  us  to  this  spot." 

A  blush  crimsoned  over  Annette's  pale  features, 
and  she  answered,  hesitatingly — 


THE   BRITISH  PARTIZAN*  105 

"  But,  Kalph,  I  cannot  go  except  as -as  your 

wife." 

"  I,  too,  I  have  thought  of  that,  my  love,"  said 
ae,  smiling  fondly.  "  I  saw  Andrew  Morrison  this 
morning,  who  informed  me  that  he  would  be  here  on 
this  mournful  occasion.  Something  whispered  me 
that  you  would  be  true,  and  the  plan  which  I  have 
fust  revealed  to  you  of  leaving  the  country,  then 
occurred  to  me.  There  is  in  the  fort  with  you  a 
French  minister,  a  good  and  kind  man,  who,  for  the 
love  he  bore  your  father,  might  be  prevailed  on  to 
do  us  this  service.  I  will  engage  Andrew  to  bring 
aim  here — even  to-morrow  night,  if  you " 

"What,  so  soon  Ralph?  And  my  poor  father 
just  buried  to-day  1 "  And  Annette  burst  into  a  fresh 
passion  of  tears. 

"  My  beloved  Annie,  do  not  grieve  so — you  shall 
have  it  as  you  please.  But  I  am  becoming  very 
cowardly  since  you  have  rendered  life  so  dear  tome; 
and  there  is  no  safety  for  me  here." 

"Well,  Ralph,  well,"  said  Annette  resignedly. 
"  But  I  must  return  to  the  fort ;  and  how  shall  I 
escape  again  ?  " 

"  Why  return,  my  love  1  I  can  place  you  in 
safety  until  to-morrow,  and  then  I  shall  bid  them 
defiance  forever." 

"  No,  no ! "  said  Annette,  who  was  becoming 
alarmed  for  his  safety,  "that  must  not  be.  My 
absence  from  the  fort  would  excite  suspicion — they 
would  search  for  us,  and  then  all  would  be  lost." 

"  Do  not  fear,  Annette,"  said  Ralph,  smiling  at 
J 


106  THE   BRITISH   PARTIZAN. 

her  earnestness.  "  No  power  on  earth  shall  tear  you 
from  me  now.  But  return  to  the  fort  as  you  have 
prudently  suggested.  Andrew  Morrison  is  my 
friend — you  may  depend  upon  him — and  I  will  be 
ready  with  a  rope  ladder  on  the  western  side  of  the 
fort,  to  receive  you.  Here,  where  we  have  enjo}red 
so  many  years  of  happiness,  we  will  be  wedded  ;  and 
then  we  will  bid  farewell  forever  to  all  that  can 
remind  us  of  sorrow." 

The  little  boy,  who  was  alarmed  at  the  first  sight 
of  Kalph,  had  been  sitting  at  their  feet  listening  with 
perplexed  interest  to  this  conversation  ;  but  by  this 
time  he  seemed  to  recognise  him,  and  clasping  him 
by  the  knees,  he  said : 

"And  I  will  go,  too!  May  I  not  go,  uncle 
Ealph  ?  " 

Ralph  had  left  him  hitherto  unnoticed,  but  he 
now  sat  him  on  his  knee  and  caressed  him  fondly. 

"No,  Willie,  no!"  said  he,  "you  must  stay  to 
take  care  of  your  mother." 

The  child  was  not  insensible  to  these  caresses,  and 
he  threw  his  arms  around  his  uncle's  neck,  as  he  was 
wont  to  do — 

"  Where  have  you  been  gone  so  Jong,  uncle 
Ralph?  Annie  Bruyesant  has  cried  so  much  for 
you,"  said  he,  in  infantile  simplicity. 

"But  Annie  Bruye'sant  will  cry  no  more  now," 
said  Ralph,  with  a  smile,  whilst  putting  aside  the 
curls  to  kiss  the  brow  of  his  little  relative. 

Willie  made  no  reply.  His  attention  seemed  to 
be  fixed  on  something  opposite  to  him.     They  were 


THE  BRITISH  PARTIZAN.  107 

very  near  the  deserted  cottage,  which,  since  it  had 
been  rifled  by  the  tories,  stood  with  its  doors  open  or 
broken  down — 

"Look,  uncle  Ralph,  look  ! "  said  he.  "  Yonder  is 
a  man  peeping  through  the  door! " 

Ralph  looked  up  hastily. 

"Ob,  no,  Willie,  you  are  mistaken,"  said  he. 

But  the  child  would  not  be  satisfied  till  Ralph 
went  with  him  to  search  the  house.  There  was  no 
one  visible.  Annette,  however,  had  become  alarmed, 
and  after  a  few  more  whispered  words  she  took  the 
hand  of  the  little  boy  and  returned  with  trembling 
steps  to  the  fort. 

Ralph  Cornet  waited  until  tjje  last  glimpse  of  her 
form  was  hid  from  his  sight  by  the  thick  trees,  and 
then  he  turned  awav  also. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

11  Ambition  is  at  distance 
A  goodly  prospect,  tempting  to  the  view. 
The  height  delights  us,  and  the  mountain  top 
Looks  beautiful,  because  'tis  nigh  to  heaven. 
But  we  ne'er  think  how  sandy's  the  foundation — 
What  storms  will  batter,  and  what  tempests  shake  it." 

In  the  meantime  the  British  officer  had  been  ful- 
filling a  wild  and  bitter  destiny.  When  on  that 
eventful  morning  he  fled  before  his  pursuers  to  the 
river,  he  found  that  he  had  but  one  resource.  The 
pursuers  were  close  at  hand,  and  he  could  not  have 
reached  the  other  bank  in  safety  if  even  his  wound 
had  not  incapacitated  him  from  swimming.  But 
from  a  boy  he  had  acquired  great  proficiency  in  the 
sport  of  diving,  and  was  noted  for  the  length  of 
time  he  could  remain  under  the  water.  Ralph  now 
turned  this  talent  to  good  account.  With  his  hand- 
kerchief he  first  bound  tightly  the  orifice  where  a 
bullet  had  entered  his  thigh,  and  jumping  into  the 
water,  he  contrived,  by  swimming  and  diving,  to 
reach  a  place  where  its  transparency  would  least 
betray  him,  and  where  a  body  of  leaves  had  drifted 
up  against  an  old  log  which*  extended  far  into  the 
river,  where  he  concealed  himself  with  just  enough 
of  his  face  above  the  water  to  insure*  respiration 
through  the  friendly  covering  of  the  leaves.  When 
his  enemies  reached  the  bank  he  heard  the  curses  of 


THE   BRITISH   PARTIZAN.  109 

disappointment,  the  dreadful  imprecations  uttered 
against  him ;  but  deeper  than  the  bitterness  of  all 
this  was  the  sickening  feeling  of  contempt  with 
which  he  discovered  the  treachery  of  Hugh  Bates. 
"And  it  is  with  such  men  that /am  classed!"  he 
said  to  himself,  as  he  lay  all  day  under  that  close 
watch.  Nature  was  nearly  exhausted ;  but  Kalph 
Cornet  would  sooner  have  given  himself  as  food  to 
the  fishes  than  to  have  become  the  prize  of  those 
desperate  men.  But  when  the  electric  waters  con- 
ve}7ed  to  him  the  last  echoes  of  their  retreating  foot- 
steps, he  raised  himself  and  looked  around. 

The  moon  was  riding  high  on  a  sky  of  that  soft 
exquisite  blue  which  belongs  purely  to  the  American 
autumn,  and  as  its  bright  rays  fell  upon  the  river, 
seemingly  setting  the  liquid  element  on  fire  with  a 
flood  of  silver  light,  it  appeared  as  if  a  new  heaven 
and  earth  were  created  within  that  immense  reflec- 
tion. The  bright  yellow  and  red  tints  of  the  autumnal 
trees,  mingling  with  the  fadeless  hues  of  the  majestic 
evergreens  on  the  western  bank,  lay  mirrored  there 
in  a  dream-like  repose,  which  the  stillness  of  night 
and  the  deeply  contrasting  shades  around  rendered 
almost  fearful.  Ralph  gazed  a  few  moments  ;  but  in 
those  few  moments  what  years  of  agonised  thought 
were  comprised !  Not  that  he  had  never  viewed 
that  scene  before.  He  had  looked  on  nature  in  all 
her  varied  and  beautiful  forms,  and  held  communion 
from  his  infancy  with  river,  rock  and  hill.  He  was 
nature's  foster  child.  From  her  whispered  teachings 
he  had  gleaned  aH  the  knowledge  he  possessed,  and 
J* 


110  THE   BRITISH   PAKTIZAN. 

in  the  days  of  his  innocence  he  had  loved  her  voice. 
But  now,  from  the  depths  of  that  awful  volume,  a 
tone  went  to  his  heart,  which  for  the  first  time, 
awakened  remorse.  He  felt  that  he  was  not  what  he 
had  been;  that  he  never  could  be  that  free,  that 
happy,  that  joyous  thing  again. 

As  a  sense  of  his  utter  wretchedness,  of  his  degra- 
dation came  over  him,  the  illusions  which  had  dazzled 
his  youthful  imagination  faded  away  and  revealed 
to  him  the  meagre  skeleton  he  had  embraced. 
Hunted  like  a  wild  beast  by  the  best  part  of  his 
countrymen,  betrayed  by  the  other,  with  whom  his 
spirit  seemed  to  mingle — and 'she,  even  sJw  had 
deserted  him. 

Oppressed  by  all  these  thoughts,  faint  from  loss  of 
blood,  and  benumbed  with  cold,  Ralph  Cornet  sank 
on  the  ground.  This  man  of  pride,  and  strength, 
and  daring,  now  that  there  was  nothing  left  to  live 
for,  resolved  to  die  there  alone  and  in  darkness. 
Cold  shivering  fits  came  over  him,  succeeded  by  a 
feeling  of  suffocating  heat  which  brought  the  cold 
perspiration  to  his  brow,  and  soon  he  would  have 
been  in  a  raging  fever,  but  that  guardian  angel 
which  guides  the  children  of  mercy  through  storm 
and  darkness  whispered  a  word  of  hope  which  drew 
the  wretched  man  from  the  verge  of  despair. 

u  There  is  yet  one  being  left  to  pity  me,"  said  he. 
"  I  will  arise  and  go  to  my  father.  I  have  wronged 
him,  but  he  will  pardon  me." 

He  arose  and  followed  the  thickety  bank  for  some 
miles,  insensible  alike  to  pain,  fear  or  danger.     But 


THE   BRITISH   PARTIZAN.  Ill 

the  cool  air  and  exercise  moderated  the  excitement 
of  his  blood,  and  his  senses  gradually  became  clearer. 
He  had  arrived  within  a  mile  of  his  home  when  he 
heard  the  splashing  of  oars  in  the  water.  Every 
stroke  of  the  paddles  became  fainter,  and  he  stooped 
down  to  the  bank  just  in  time  to  observe  a  party  of 
four  or  five  men  landing  on  the  Georgia  side  from 
the  kind  of  canoe  then  commonly  in  use. 

"What  can  ttfese  rascally  Dooly s  have  been 
after?"  thought  he.  "They  are  no  friends  to  our 
family !  "  and  Ralph's  step  quickened  involuntarily 
as  he  thought  of  his  father's  lonely  and  unprotected 
situation. 

His  worst  fears  were  confirmed,  for  the  first  sight 
which  greeted  him  was  a  column  of  black  smoke 
streaked  with  fitful  gushes  of  red  flame  rising  from 
his  native  dwelling.  He  gave  not  one  glance  to  the 
ruin  around  him,  but  rushed  into  the  house,  calling 
loudly  on  the  name  of  his  father.  His  voice  was  lost 
in  the  loud  roaring  of  the  devouring  element;  but 
by  the  horrid  glare  which  overspread  the  room,  he 
recognized  a  bed  in  one  corner,  from  which  hung  the 
body  of  a  human  being,  as  if- it  had  fallen  in  the 
attempt  to  escape.  Ralph  Cornet  staid  not  to  assure 
himself  that  it  was  his  father.  He  staggered  for- 
ward, and  seizing  the  body  bore  it  from  the  devour- 
ing flames.  He  laid  it  upon  the  grass  in  the  bright 
moonlight,  and  threw  himself  upon  it  in  bitter  an- 
guish ;  but  scarcely  had  he  done  so,  when  he  started 
up  suddenly,  exclaiming : 

"Oh,  God!  he  lives!"     And   placing  the  head 


112  THE  BRITISH   P.tRTIZAN. 

upon  his  knee,  he  put  back  the  silvery  hair  from  the 
high,  pale  brow. 

The  blood  began  to  stream  afresh  from  a  wound 
in  the  shoulder  as  the  fresh  air  revived  him,  and 
Ealph  observed  that  a  bullet  had  passed  quite  through 
it,  causing  a  great  effusion  of  blood,  which,  indepen- 
dent of  the  suffocating  effects  of  the  burning  house, 
would  have  occasioned  a  swoon.  fl?he  young  man 
^shuddered  at  the  thought  that  but  a  few  minutes 
later  and  he  would  have  seen  only  the  ashes  of  his 
father's  funeral  pyre.  But  as  he  reflected  that  a  good 
angel  had  guided  him  there  for  the  purpose  of  saving 
his  father's  life,  he  felt  that  he  was  not  quite  a  wretch. 
AVith  something  of  joyful  alacrity  he-  bound  up  the 
wound,  and  seeing  his  father's  lips  move  at  the  pain 
which  the  action  occasioned,  Ealph  bent  his  ear  close 
to  catch  the  sound1. 

"Begone!"  said  the  old  man,  faintly.  "Let  me 
die  in  peace  !  " 

M  Father ! "  said  Ealph  fondly,  "  you  may  yet  live." 

The  father's  eyes  opened.  "  James,  is  it  you,  my 
son  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  No,  father,  it  is  your  poor  Ealph." 

The  red  glow  of  the  flames  threw  a  vivid  light 
upon  that  spot,  and  the  old  man  looked  up  long  and 
earnestly  in  the  pale  countenance  that  was  bending 
over  him.  His  own  was  not  more  ghastly.  As  if 
slowly  recollecting  something  painful,  his  brow  gath- 
ered into  a  dark  frown,  and  he  made  an  impatient 
gesture  with  his  hand. 

"  Go,  go ! "  said  he.     "  I  cannot  bear  you." 


THE  BKITISH   PARTIZAN.  113 

" Father!"  said  Ralph,  in  an  agony  of  imploring 
tenderness^  "surely  you  do  not  hate  me  too?  " 

"  Yes,  I  hate  you,"  replied  he  in  a  hollow  and 
shivering  tone  of  wrath.  "  I  hate  you  as  much  as  I 
ever  loved  you  before.  You  were  my  darling,  my 
youngest  born — the  last  gift  of  your  mother  who  is 
above.  In  all  this  country  there  was  none  like  you. 
I  saw  in  you  the  glory  of  my  own  youth  revived, 
and  I  prided  in  you.  But  you  have  disgraced — you 
have  humbled  me.  You  are  the  first  traitor  of  my 
blood  I  "  And,  exhausted  by  this  torrent  of  passion, 
the  old  man  sunk  back,  with  his  head  on  the  grass, 
and  gnashed  his  teeth  in  anguish. 

11  Take  back  the  word — take  back  the  word  ! "  said 
Ralph.     "  I  have  betrayed  no  trust !  " 

"  Boy ! "  said  the  old  man,  raising  himself  with  a 
violent  gesture,  and  pointing  with  one  hand  to  the 
house,  the  timbers  of  which  had  just  fallen  in  with 
a  loud  crash,  and  sent  up  a  strong  lurid  flame  to  the 
sky.  "Boy,  behold  your  work  !  Freedom,  freedom 
was  your  trust,  and  behold  one  of  her  many  pillars 
fallen  through  your  means.  You  first  neglected  and 
then  raised  your  own  arm  against  her.  Call  you  not 
Hiat  treason  ?  " 

"  Oh,  God  ! "  said  Ralph.  "  Must  I  bear  all  this  ?  " 

The  last  drop  of  his  cup  was  full.  His  heart  was 
humbled  as  a  child's,  and  he  burst  into  tears. 

The  proud  father  turned  suddenly  to  him,  as  if 
doubtful  of  what  he  heard,  and  as  he  regarded  him 
a  few  moments,  the  ferocity  which  gleamed  in  his 
eyes  subsided  into  a  calm  and  concentrated  gaze  of 


114  THE   BRITISH   PARTIZAN. 

contempt,  the  strong  impulsive  bitterness  of  .which 
convulsed  his  features  with  a  ghastly  and  unconscious 
smile. 

"Miserable  boy!"  said  he.  "What  has  become 
of  the  strength  of  your  glorious  patriotism  t  Traitors, 
at  least,  should  never  weep.  They  should  have  that 
one  virtue — the  power  to  bear.  Go ;  you  are  not  of 
nry  blood.     I  disown  you  !  " 

"Father!"  said  Ralph  fiercely,  "cease  your  re- 
proaches. Whatever  may  have  been  my  early  errors, 
I  have  wept  for  them  in  tears  of  blood." 

"  Then  why  not  redeem  them,  boy  ?  " 

"  And  act  a  double  treason  !  "  said  Ralph.  "  No  ! 
I  will  die  in  the  faith  I  have  sworn." 

"  Then  leave  me,"  said  the  old  man.  "  Leave  me 
forever !  " 

"Not  'till  have  placed  you  in  safety,  father ! " 
said  Ralph,  mournfully.  "  The  tories  will  return  to 
see  if  their  work  prospers,  and  they  must  not  find 
you  here." 

"  And  is  it  you  who  would,protect  me  against  the 
tories  ?  "  said  the  father  sneeringly. 

Ralph  bit  his  lips  until  the  blood  gushed  from 
them.  But  without  trusting  himself  to  reply,  he 
seized  the  feeble  frame  of  the  old  man  in  his  arms 

and   totterecl  with   it  to  the  brink  of  the  river.     A 

i 

canoe  was  quietly  playing  there  in  an  eddy  of  the 
stream — Ralph's  own  canoe — the  bark  of  his  boyish 
sallies!  Somehow,  amid  all  the  changes  that  had 
passed,  it  had  been  spared.  Perhaps,  like  modest 
worth,  it  could  flatter  no  passion,  serve  no  interest. 


THE   BRITISH   PARTIZAN.  115 

Just  as  he  had  left  it  it  remained,  locked  to  a  wil- 
low.    The  key  was  lost,  but  Ralph  wrenched  away 
the  piu,  and  placed  his  father  in  it,  and  having  given 
one  last  look  to  the  painful %scene  behind  him°  where 
the  fiery  streaks  were  fading  away  on  the  horizon, 
he  breathed  a  bitter  curse  on  those  who  had  wrought 
this  destruction  of  household  wealth,  this  utter  deso- 
lation, and  then  guided  his  little  canoe  swiftly  and 
-  noiselessly .  down   the   stream.      He  remembered  a 
hanging  rock,   beneath   which  he  had  once  taken 
shelter  from  a  storm  on  the  river.     It  was  a  retired 
place,  completely  hid  by  the  rising  ground  and  trees, 
and  only  accessible  by   means  of  a   lagoon   which 
backed  up  from  the  river.     The  eyeof  mortal  man 
seldom  visited  the  spot;  indeed,  it  was  so  entirely 
hemmed  in  by  the  swampy  verdue  of  the  two  hills 
which,  enclosed   it,  and  was   besides   so  dark  and 
gloomy  that  it  offered  but  little  to  tempt  the  curiosity 
or  daring  of  the  boldest.     But  where  was  it'Kalph 
Cornet  had  not  penetrated  ?     There  was  not  a  single 
creek  or  inlet,  for  many  miles  along  that  river,  which 
he  had  not  explored  in  his  indulged  and  adventurous 
childhood,  and   every  dell  and  cave  had  opened  its   ' 
secret  treasures  to  his  eye ;  for,  as  the  heir  of  an 
independent  estate,  his  aristocratic  father  had  fostered 
in  him  the  bold  and  daring  spirit  which  led  him  to 
rove  unshackled  through  nature's  wide  domain,  and 
perfect   himself  in    all   the   hardy   branches  of  her 
science,  r«*her  than  submit  to  the  dull  trainings  of 
domestic  labor.     This  the  father  had  never  regretted 
until  now  ;  for  though  his  proud  boy  had  the  strong- 


116  THE   BRITISH   PARTIZAN. 

est  arm,  and  the  lightest  and  merriest  heart  in  the 
whole  country,  there  were  none  more  passionately 
fond,  more  considerately  kind.  Even  his  wild,  un- 
governed  passions  had  a  tone  so  generous  and  ele- 
vated that  every  one  predicted  that  young  Cornet 
would  be  a  blessing  to  his  country.  His  father 
listened,  and  wound  him  still  more  closely  around 
his  heart.  When  the  time  came  that  his  eldest  son 
volunteered  for  the  service  of  the  State,  though  he 
saw  the  fire  of  ardor  burning  in  Ealph's  eye,  he 
could  not  resolve  to  give  him  up.  How  different 
would  have  been  his  course  if  he  could  have  fore- 
seen that  in  so  short  a  time  the  self-governed  spirit 
of  the  youth  would  betray  the  imperfections  of  his 
judgment  to  his  ruin. 

Now  he  was  "  fallen,  fallen,  fallen  from  his  high 
estate,"  and  the  dregs  of  that  father's  immeasurable 
love  were  stirred  into  anguish  not  unmingled  with 
remorse,  but  the  pride  which  had  so  qualified  that 
affection,  now  in  its  mistified  bitterness,  deceived  the 
old  man  into  the  belief  that  he  really  felt  the  hatred 
he  expressed  for  his  son.  Yet  in  that  moment  Ralph 
Cornet  would  have  died  to  save  his  father!  He 
understood  by  nature's  sympathy  how  the  strength 
of  his  love  betrayed  itself  in  the  violence  of  his 
hatred,  and  as  an  atonement  for  its  justice,  which  he 
felt,  he  resolved  to  devote  himself  with  humble  and 
filial  duty  to  his  protection.  Ralph  well  knew  the 
unsleeping  vigilance,  the  untiring  wolf-like  ferocity 
of  his  father's  enemies.  He  hardly  thought  of  his 
own  perilous  situation,  but  he  conducted  his  light 


THE   BRITISH   PARTIZAX.  117 

canoe,  freighted  with  the  almost  insensible  body  of 
his  father,  to  the  wild  spot  before  mentioned,  as  the 
only  place  of  refuge  for  them  both. 

The  moon  was  sinking  behind  the  western  bank 
of  the  river,  but  it  threw  its  last  ray  obliquely  into 
that  gloomy  retreat,  and  by  its  light  Ealph  gathered 
a  couch  of  dried  leaves  under  the  rock,  and  laid  his 
father  upon  it.  He  also  took  off  his  coat — that  coat 
ofately  so  fine  with  the  trappings  and  badges  of  his 
relations  with  the  royalists,  but  now  tarnished  sadly 
by  the  day's  misfortunes — and  formed  a  pillow  for 
the  haughty  republican's  head! 

For  many  days  and  nights  Ealph  watched  him 
there  in  secret,  and  his  tender  assiduities,  his  untiring 
patience  through  the  reproaches  and  fretfulness  of 
sickness  and  anger,  at  length  won  nature  back  to 
his  father's  heart. 

"Bless  you,  bless  you,  my  boy!"  said  he  one 
morning  when  Ralph,  having  returned  with  fresh 
water  and  dressed  his  wound,  placed  some  food  before 
him.  "Surely  such  a  kind  heart  as  yours  must  be 
brave  and  noble,  however  it  may  have  been  duped. 
But  how  pale  you  look,  my  son  !  I  fear  confinement 
in  this  horried  place  will  kill  you.  Better  you  had 
left  me  to  be  burnt  alive,  for  those  rascals  will  have 
me  at  last.  They  can  never  rest  since  that  unfortu- 
nate shot  with  which  I  killed  their  brother  as  he  was 
carrying  off  my  English  mare.  The  thieving  dog! 
he  was  paid  for  it." 

"No,  father,"  said  Ralph.  "You  are  safe  here 
fbr  a  time,  I  trust.     No  one  but  old  Juba  knows  of 


118  THE   BRITISH   PART]  Z AN. 

our  existence,  and  he  is  not  likely  to  betray  us.  We 
can  remain  here  until  these  troublesome  times  are 
over,  for,  sure  as  there  is  a  God  above,  our  wretched 
country  will  rise  sometime  from  under  the  rule  of 
the  wicked." 

"That's  spoken  like  my  son,"  said  the  old  man, 
with  a  fond  and  almost  cheerful  accent. 

That  day,  contrary  to  his  usual  custom — for  he 
only  ventured  out  in  the  darkest  hour  of  night-f* 
Ralph  rowed  his  canoe  for  some  distance  up  the 
steep  and  narrow  gorge  of  the  lagoon  until  he  found 
a  place  where  he  might  land.  As  he  clambered  up 
the  bank  the  branch  of  the  tree  to  which  he  had 
clung  broke  off  and  fell  into  the  stream,  but  he 
heeded  not  the  circumstance,  and  having  gained  the 
summit,  he  took  a  circuitous  route  across  the  woods 
to  the  hut  of  the  old  African,  from  whom  he  had 
hitherto  received  the  supplies  which  sustained  his 
father  and  himself  in  their  exile.  This  old  negro 
had  l<3ng  been  supported  by  his  father  for  the  good 
he  had  done,  and  though  he  now  lived  to  himself, 
and  was  actually  free,  he  gloried  in  the  relation  of 
master  and  servant,  and  still  retained  the  warm  affec- 
tion for  his  master's  family  which  time  had  strength- 
ened into  a  habit  in  his  faithful  nature.  He  would 
sooner  have  been  flayed  alive  than  have  betrayed 
them,  and  cheerfully  shared  with  them  the  daily  pit- 
tance which  he  either  earned  or  begged,  for  he  had 
saved  but  little  from  his  master's  stores.  It  was  a 
lonely,  long  and  unfrequented  way  which  Kalph  had 
to  traverse,  and  the  sun  was  setting  at  evening,  whe^i 


THE   BRITISH   PARTIZAN.  119 

he  again  entered  his  canpc.  As  the  little  vessel 
heaved  up  and  settled  its  point  upon  the  sand,  Ralph 
was  alarmed  by  the  sight  of  many  footsteps  and 
marks  of  violence,  and  rushing  into  the  cave  he  fell 
on  his  knees  before  the  horrid  spectacle  of  his  father's 
bloody  and  mangled  corpse.  Wildly  he  raised  the 
head  to  assure  himself  that  life  was  indeed  gone,  and 
that  he  was  all  alone.  Then  his  brain  seemed  to 
whirl  round,  and  he  held  his  brow  with  a  maddening 
clasp,  until  tears  came  to  his  relief. 

During  the  night  he  scooped  a  shallow  grave 
under  the  rock  where,  without  other  shroud  than 
his  tattered  garments,  he  laid  the  violated  remains  of 
his  deeplyjoved  parent.  The  tears  which  he  had  at 
first  shed  relieved  the  weight  on  his  heart,  for  they 
were  lightened  b}^  the  reflection  that  he  had  soothed 
the  sufferings  of  that  parent,  and  that  his  last  words 
had  been  a  blessing.  Perhaps,  too,  he  consoled  him- 
self that  those  eyes  were  closed  on  a  world  where 
they  woul^  have  seen  only  sorrow.  But  that  awful 
burial  of  the  murdered — there,  alone,  and  in  dark- 
ness, was  an  outrage  too  shocking  to  the  feelings  of 
a  son,  and  as  he  proceeded  in  the  bitter  task  the  tears 
became  congealed  on  bis  eyelids,  and  a  stern  rancor 
poured  over  the  latent  softness  of  his  heart.  He  went 
forth  from  that  cave  harsh  and  unpit}nngas  a  savage, 
vowing  to  match  the  blood  of  a  Dooly  with  that  so 
freely  shed. 

The  old  man  had  spoken  truly  from  an  intimate 
knowledge  of  the  character  of  these  fierce  men. 
They    could    not    rest    while    they    thought    their 


120  THE   BRITISH   PARTIZAN. 

brother's  blood  cried  to  them  from  the  ground,  and 
when  they  had  shot  his  destroyer  in  his  bed,  and  set 
fire  to  the  house  over  his  head,  after  having  secured 
to  themselves  everything  valuable,  they  believed 
their  revenge  consummated.  It  was  generally  sup-  * 
posed  that  old  Cornet  had  perished  thus,  and  they 
had  no  suspicion  of  the  fact  of  his  escape,  until  as 
they  were  passing  down  the  river  the  fated  morning 
of  Ralph's  absence,  a  green  branch  floating  on  the 
mouth  of  the  lagoon  excited  their  curiosity  so  far  as 
to  lead  them  to  investigate  the  mystery.  As  the  man 
who  believed  he  had  killed  some  poisonous  reptile, 
and  seeing  it  again  move  its  fangs,  springs  upon  it, 
and  ends  not  until  he  has  crushed  it  from  the  form 
of  nature,  thus  the}'  sprung  upon  that  weak  old 
man,  and  mangled  him  with  wanton  and  beastly 
cruelty.  But,  as  if  in  confirmation  of  the  truth  that 
"murder  will  out,"  they  left  by  mistake  a  gun  behind 
them,  which  they  had  stolen  from  his  father,  and  by 
this  means  Ralph,  if  he  had  doubted  it  before,  would 
have  been  able  to  identify  the  murderers. 

They  would  doubtless  return  soon  to  look  for  it ; 
at  least  Ralph  judged  so,  and  he  lingered  there  with 
the  hope  that  they  would  come,  that  he  might  on 
that  spot  satisfy  the  manes  of  his  father.  But  to- 
wards daylight  he  grew  impatient  and  left  the  cave. 
A  new  and  fierce  ambition  had  seized  him ;  it  was 
the  desire  of  drowning  his  sorrows  in  the  noise  of 
battle — of  revenging  on  his  kind  some  of  the  misery 
which  maddened  him.  He  had  now  no  tics  for 
good  or  evil ;  but  he  remembered  the  friendship  of 


THE   BRITISH   PARTIZAN.  121 

Ferguson,  who  had  not  appeared  ungrateful  for  the 
assistance  he  had  rendered  him,  and  he  resolved  if 
possible  to  join  him  in  his  operations  as  he  origi- 
nally intended,  and  resume  command  of  a  company 
which  he  had  undesignedly  relinquished. 

It  was,  as  I  have  said,  near  daylight  when  Ralph 
Cornet,  without  scrip  or  staff,  except  the  gun  which 
had  been  left  by  the  rock,  boldly  began  his  journey. 

lie  took  no  secret  turns,  no  winding  wajrs,  to 
avoid  detection,  for  his  heart  was  filled  with  a  strange 
longing,  a  thirst  for  human  blood;  and  he  watched 
eagerly  for  his  enemies,  but  no  creature  crossed  his 
path.  It  happened,  however,  that  his  route  lay 
near  the  old  African's  dwelling;  and  as  he  was  pass- 
ing within  half  a  mile  of  it,  his  attention  was 
aroused  by  screams,  or  rather  by  sounds  which 
appeared  to  be  the  involuntary  and  irrepressible 
outpourings  of  agony.  His  heart  smote  him  with 
having  forgotten  that  humble  friend,  and  he  quick- 
ened his  steps  in  that  direction.  As  he  approached, 
the  sound  of  a  lash  was  distinctly  heard,  and  occa- 
sionally laughter  and  curses  contrasted  mockingly 
with  the  scream  which  attended  each  stroke. 

Ralph  stood  by  a  tree  outside  the  little  enclosure 
of  corn  and  potatoes  which  surrounded  the  hut,, 
whence  he  had  a  plain  view  of  the  scene,  which 
made  his  blood  to  boil  once  more.  There  was  his 
faithful  Juba,  hanging  by  the  arms  from  a  log  which 
extended  from  a  corner  of  the  hut,  and  a  man  was 
still  inflicting  the  punishment  of  the  whip,  accom- 
panying every  stripe  with  an  injunction  and  threat 


122  THE    BRITISH    PARTIZAN. 

about  something  which  the  old  negro  refused  to 
reveal,  the  nature  of  which  Ralph  could  not  at  first 
determine.  Two  other  men  stood  by  with  drawn 
swords,  laughing  fiendishly  at  the  manner  in  which 
the  negro  winced  from  the  cruel  torture  of  their 
companion  ;  but  every  now  and  then,  enraged  at 
his  stubborn  silence,  they  ran  up  and  thrust  the 
points  of  their  swords  into  his  flesh,  or  seized  him 
by  the  short  kinks  of  grey  hair,  threatening  to  flay 
him  alive  if  he  did  not  tell  them  where  Ralph  Cornet 
was  at  that  moment.  The  blood  of  the  African 
streamed  over  his  ebon  skin,  but  no  expostulation 
or  entreaty  escaped  him.  His  white  eyes  rolled 
disdainfully  upon  them,  and  his  thick  lips  were 
closed  in  perfect  silence.  He  refused  to  utter  a 
single  word. 

Ralph  heard  all  that  passed,  and  unable  to  contain 
himself  any  longer  he  examined  the  priming  of  the 
rifle  and  resting  it  slowly  and  steadily  against  the 
tree  he  took  deliberate  aim  at  the  man  who  held  the 
lash,  for  as  he  had  once  turned  round  and  discovered 
his  face  the  dark  joy  of  revenge  rose  in  the  breast 
of  Ralph.  With  the  report  of  the  gun  the  man 
sprang  at  least  three  feet  into  the  air,  and  fell,  like  a 
lump  of  lead,  with  a  groan.  His  companions,  so 
taken  by  surprise,  jumped  over  the  fence  and  fled 
as  if  a  legion  had  been  at  their  heels. 

Ralph  staid  only  to  release  the  negro,  and  whis- 
pered "farewell!"  The  morning  sun  rose  on  him 
many  miles  distant. 

It  was  the  third  day  of  his  travel  that  somewhat 


THE   BRITISH   PARTIZAN.  123 

exhausted  with  so  many  miles  journeying  on  foot, 
and  almost  without  food  or  sleep,  he  sat  down  to 
rest  by  a  little  mountain  stream  near  the  border  of 
North  Carolina.  He  knew  not  what  to  think,  for 
the  last  night  and  day  he  had  met  parties  of  men, 
some  of  whom  seemed  to  be  flying  either  on  horse 
or  foot,  and  others  pursuing.  Neither  party  had 
any  marks  by  which  he  could  distinguish  friend  or 
foe;  for,  knowing  that  the  soiled  British  uniform 
which  he  still  wore  would  render  him  liable  to  sus- 
picion, he  kept  at  a  distance.  But  he  judged  that 
some  army  had  been  routed,  and  he  feared  much  for 
Ferguson  from  whom  he  had  as  yet  received  no 
information. 

As  he  sat  with  his  arms  folded  on  his  breast 
revolving  these  thoughts,  a  man  approached  him  on 
foot  who  appeared  also  to  be  a  traveler.  He  stood 
for  some  time  regarding  Ralph  with  an  expression  of 
much  curiosity,  who,  when  he  had  lifted  up  his 
head,  testified  no  less  surprise  and  emotion  in  dis- 
covering him  to  have  been  once  a  member  of  his 
own  company  of  militia.  The  fugitive  soldier  sat 
down  there  and  told  the  stor}'  to  his  newly-arisen 
Captain  of  their  conflicts  with  the  mountaineers — of 
the  death  of  the  valiant  Ferguson — and  of  the  total 
rout  and  capture  of  his  army.  Ralph  listened  in 
silence  to  this  relation  which  brought  annihilation  to 
his  hopes  and  destruction  to  his  day-dream  of  glory. 
But  when  the  man  went  on  to  state  that  Ferguson, 
on  report  of  his  death,  had  given  his  horse  to  the 
new  Captain  who  headed  his  company,  and  that  this 


124  THE    BRITISH    FAKTIZAN. 

man  together  with  the  horse  were  now  with  a  part 
of  the  other  prisoners  remaining  not  far  off,  Ralph 
started  to  his  feet  and  shouted  as  if  that  cr}'  had 
sounded  in  the  ears  of  an  army  instead  of  the  lone 
woods — 

a  To  the  rescue ! — to  the  rescue !  " 

The  soldier,  who  had  a  brother  among  the  priso- 
ners, eagerly  entered  into  the  bold  design  of  Ralph, 
which  was  to  rally  the  flying  royalists — of  whom  he 
felt  assured  there  were  yet  many  wandering  on  the 
mountains — and  endeavor  to  recover  the  prisoners  by 
surprise. 

The  attempt  succeeded  beyond  his  expectation, 
for  he  soon  found  himself  at  the  head  of  twenty  or 
thirty  men,  wild,  desperate,  daring  tories,  who  know- 
ing that  their  lives  were  ahead}7  staked  on  the  no 
longer  doubtful  contest  with  their  countrymen,  threw 
themselves  recklessty  into  the  adventure. 

Under  the  limb  of  a  large  tree,  near  to  what 
appeared  to  be  an  American  encampment,  a  rude 
scaffolding  was  erected,  around  which  were  bustling 
many  men  in  lively  preparation  for  some  uncommon 
event.  All  seemed  to  be  ready  for  moving  when 
this  should  have  been  accomplished.  There  were  no 
signs  of  tents  or  baggage  wagonsT  but  arms  and 
knapsacks  lay  about  in  heaps,  and  several  fires  were 
yet  smoking.  To  the  left  a  number  of  horses,  ready 
equipped,  were  tied  to  the  dwarfish  shrubs,  whilst 
between  them  and  the  scaffold  sat  or  reclined  that 
part  of  the  captured  royalists  which  had  been  com- 


THE  BRITISH  PARTIZAN.  125. 

mitted  to  the  care  of  Colonel  Shelby,  bound  and 
secured  by  means  of  chains  to  the  trees. 

These  had  been  detained  some  few  days  after  the 
departure  of  the  rest  by  the  indisposition  of  the 
officer,  and  their  captors,  without  fear  of  molestation, 
were  making  read}'  to  offer  offended  justice  an  expi- 
ation for  the  blood  of  many  innocent  victims.  From 
the  ranks  of  the  prisoners,  one  after  another,  a  man 
was  loosed  and  hung  from  the  limbs  of  the  tree ; 
and  it  was  not  the  first  time  that  the  Whigs  were 
provoked  to  that  method  of  retaliation.  But  whilst 
these  executions  were  going  on,  amid  laughing  and 
shouting,  which  mocked  the  screams  of  the  victims, 
a  noise  was  heard  behind,  and  it  was  observed  that 
the  remaining  captives  were  loosed  and  running 
down  the  hill  in  the  rear.  There  was  swift  snatch- 
ing of  arms  and  mounting  of  horses,  and  the  last 
victim,  with  the  cord  yet  unbound  around  his  neck, 
was  left  alone.  But  in  the  meantime  Ralph  Cornet, 
with  the  eye  of  a  lynx  had  espied  his  horse  among 
those  ready  bridled  and  saddled,  and  having  slyly 
loosed  and  mounted  him,  he  warmlv  met  and 
charged  the  pursuers  in  front  of  the  better  half  of 
his  men,  in  the  deep  copse-wood  of  the  valley.  The 
mountaineers  pressed  on  furiously,  but  Ralph  covered 
the  retreat  of  the  prisoners  to  a  rude  defense  he  had 
thrown  up  in  one  of  the  fastnesses  of  the  mountains, 
and  the  retreating  fire  he  kept  up  obliged  the  pur- 
suers, who  had  set  off  hastily  and  without  order,  to 
return  and  rally  their  forces. 

The  situation  which  Ralph  had  chosen  was  per- 


J26  THE   BRITISH    PARTIZAN. 

fectly  secure  from  attack,  and  be  might  have  main- 
tained his  position  there  for  any  length  of  time,  if 
famine  had  not  obliged  him  to  abandon  it.  He 
knew  that  Colonel  Shelby,  strongly  reinforced,  was 
watching  them,  and  under  these  circumstances  he 
found  it  necessan'  to  make  a"  push  for  the  lower 
countr}\  The}7  sallied  out  one  night,  but  they  had 
not  proceeded  far  when  they  were  attacked  in  the 
rear.  This  was  what  they  had  expected,  and  each 
man  by  the  light  of  the  clear,  cold  starlight,  turned 
and  grappled  with  his  foe.  The  conflict  was  stern 
and  desperate,  but  not  long.  The  numbers  were 
now  unequal,  not  more  than  half  of  the  tories  had 
arms,  and  every  man  but  Ralph  was  either  killed  or 
captured.  When  his  last  comrade  fell  fighting  by 
his  side,  Ralph  Cornet,-  who  was  himself  stunned  by 
a  blow  on  the  head,  turned  and  fled.  For  a  long 
time  he  imagined  he  heard  the  tramp  of  ieet  behind 
him,  but  when  at  dawn  of  day  he  pulled  up  his  good 
horse  to  breathe,  on  the  top  of  a  high  hill,  he  looked 
around,  and  he  was  alone,  A  wide  landscape 
stretched  out  to  the  west  in  successive  variation  of 
undulating  slopes,  over  which  the  blue  mists  of 
morning  spread  a  soft  and  hallowed  repose.  The 
wearied  and  misanthropic^  spirit  of  Ralph  yearned 
towards  its  still  and  apparently  untrodden  solitude. 
He  gazed  back  for  a  moment  to  the  gentle  vales  of 
the  South — 

"My  country!"  he  said  aloud,  "it  is  in  vain  that 
we  struggle.  You  will  he  free — but  I — /  cannot  see 
iti" 


THE   BRITISH   PARTIZAN.  127 

And  plunging  down  the  bill,  he  was  soon  thread-, 
ing  the  lovely  vales  of  the  Toogula,  But  all  was 
too  soft  and  beautiful  there  to  sympathise  with  the 
harsh  tenor  of  his  thoughts.  He  sought  for  the 
stern  and  terrible,  that  he  might  hide  from  himself 
in  the  subduing  presence  of  that  nature  which  had 
ever  been  his  god.  At  length  the  dark-green  moun- 
tain tops  rose  above  him,  and  scarcely  less  than  a 
madman,  he  wandered  by  the  u  beetling  brows  "  of 
precipices,  and  through  the  gloomy  grave-like  hol- 
lows. His  horse  fed  beside  him  on  the  green  ver- 
dure of  the  sheltered  spots;  but  it  was  many,  many 
days  that  Ralph  Cornet  forgot  the  cravings  of  nature 
except  to  snatch  instinctively  the  wild  grapes  and 
berries  that  hung  to  his  hand.  No  sign  of  human 
habitation  was  there,  and  only  once  an  Indian 
hunter  had  crossed  his  path,  casting  on  him  a  sly 
inquiring  glance.  The  wolves  howled  around  where 
he  struck  his  fire  of  nights,  and  not  unfrequently  a 
bear  ran  off  at  sight  of  him.  He  still  carried  his 
gun,  and  the  leathern  pouch  on  his  shoulder  had 
some  few  charges  of  ammunition  remaining.  But 
the  wild  deer  played  around  him  unharmed,  and 
watched  him  with  their  timid  eyes  in  wondering 
innocence. 

One  day  he  found  himself  on  the  edge  of  a  rock 
where  a  little  stream,  swollen  by  the  autumnal  rains, 
came  rushing  down  from  the  dark  brow  of  the 
mountain,  through  rustling  leaves  and  chiming  cas- 
cades, and  he  nearly  precipitated  himself  over  the 
brink  before  he  was  aware  of  the  gulf  that  yawned 


128  THE   BRITISH    PARTIZAN. 

j beneath  him.  Then,  suddenly  as  the  lightning 
scathes  the  living  tree,  the  full  sublimity  of  that 
mountain  cataract  ran  through  the  nerves  of  Ralph. 
He  fell  prostrate  on  the  rock,  and  gazed  down  into 
the  yawning  abyss  and  drank  in  the  roaring  of  the 
waters,  until  his  strained  eyes  ached  almost  to  burst- 
ing, and  his  brain  whirled  round  with  ecstasy. 
Scarcely  could  he  refrain  from  throwing  himself 
headlong,  in  sympathy  with  the  torrent,  down,  down 
into  its  eddying  pool — so  fascinating,  so  impelling  to 
his  soul  were  these  elements  of  the  beautiful  and 
terrible. 

Long,  very  long,  he  gazed,  and  then  winding 
around  to  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  he  entered  the 
amphitheatre  of  the  precipice,  and  seating  himself 
by  the  circular  pool,  looked  up  nearly  two  hundred 
feet  to  where  the  water  poured  over  the  rim  of  the 
rock.  His  mind  was  over  wrought  by  the  novel 
excitement,  and  he  laughed  loud  and  exultingly  as 
the  strong  breeze  brushed  the  hair  from  his  brow 
and  the  cool  spray  dashed  in  his  face. 

"Ha!  ha!  ha!"  he  shouted,  "these  are  my  com- 
panions!" And  he  stooped  down  and  kissed  the 
rocks,  and  shouted  again,  and  clapped  his  hands  in 
the  ecstasy  of  insanity. 

It  was  a  fearful  moment;  for  he  was  about  to 
plunge  into  the  dark  and  un fathomed  basin  of  the 
torrent.  But  a  stream  of  lightning,  for  several 
seconds  in  succession,  blinded  his  eyes  and  a  clap 
of  thunder  broke  on  the  rock  so  vividly  that,  pained 
by  the  shock,  he  sunk  down  on  the  ground,  with 


THE   BRITISH   PARTIZAN*  129 

his  head  buried  in  his  arms.  A  silence  succeeded  of 
such  long  continuance  that  Ralph  ventured  to  look 
up,  and  his  eyes  caught  the  inky  surges  heaving  like 
the  waters  of  a  boiling  cauldron  on  the  sky.  Pre- 
sently he  heard  a  low  rumbling,  like  a  thousand 
chariot  wheels  afar  off,  and  the  wind  whistled  shrilly 
through  the  dry  leaves  of  the  forest  above  him.  But 
soon  after  the  discharge,  as  of  a  cannonade,  rattled 
through  the  hollows  in  reverberating  peals,  and  the 
winds  la,shed  the  sides  of  the  mountain,  and  roared 
and  swelled,  until  the  hoary  trees  on  the  mountain's 
brow  tossed  their  arms  in  distraction,  and  groaned  and 
creaked  as  their  trunks  were  twisted  off  and  hurled 
like  leaves  through  the  air.  Ralph  threw  himself  on 
the  ground  and  prepared  to  die,  in  trembling  terror; 
for  man,  though  he  dares  to  defy  his  Maker,  shrinks 
from  an  exhibition  of  His  Almighty  power.  But 
the  war  of  elements  passed  on — the  rain  ceased,  and 
subdued  by  the  voice  of  Him  who  speaketh  to  the 
tempest,  Ralph  Cornet's  madness  departed  and  he  fell 
on  his  knees  and  gave  thanks  for  a  life  preserved. 

He  had  returned  to  himself  and  felt  his  wretched- 
ness; but  he  went  forth  an  humble  and  a  reasonable 
man.  The  spirit  of  murmuring  was  quelled,  and 
his  mind  was  strengthened  in  its  sadness.  Impelled 
by  hunger,  he  sought  and  obtained  food,  and  then 
wandered  farther  into  the  heart  of  the  mountains ; 
for  the  poetry  of  his  nature  was  breathing  out  after 
their  beautiful  mysteries. 

Ere   long,  of  necessity,  he   came    upon  the  rich 
shadows  of  Tallulah,  garnered  up  there  in  the  wild 
L 


130  THE  BRITISH   PARTIZAN. 

depths  of  the  forest  as  a  thing  too  precious  for  the 
eye  of  man  to  profane,  where  lights  and  shadesf 
and  colors  were  blended  so  harmoniously  and  so 
gracefully  with  all  that  is  mighty  and  terrible  in 
magnificence,  and  all  appearing  as  new  and  fresh 
and  beautiful  as  if  an  admiring  God,  enchanted  of 
his  work,  had  exempted  it  from  his  decree  against  a 
fallen  world.  It  burst  a  glorious  vision  on  the  eyes 
of  Ralph,  as  if  a  scroll  of  darkness  and  error  had 
been  suddenly  withdrawn  from  his  mind,  and  the 
happy  buoyancy  of  his  dreaming  time  harmonized 
with  the  soft  brilliancy  of  the  scene. 

For  weeks  he  wandered  along  those  lonely  cliffs, 
which  for  many  miles  enclose  that  chrystal  rivulet 
into  the  sweetest  prison  house  that  nature  ever  formed. 
Sometimes  he  would  stand  for  hours  gazing  from  the 
dizzy  heights,  and  then  he  would  descend  perilously 
a  thousand  feet  down  into  the  chasm,  and  look  nearer 
on  those  painted  walls,  where  they  lost  themselves  in 
the  forest  trees  just  a  little  below  the  sky,  until  he 
drank  his  fill  of  beauty.  He  was  there  alone  amid 
the  grandeur  of  nature,  with  no  evidence  before  him 
of  fallen  man — no  wonder  that  he  forgot  the  curse 
of  his  being.  His  heart  was  softened,  his  mind  puri- 
fied and  exalted  by  the  mysterious  process  of  assim- 
ilating to  God  through  his  works,  and  he  began 
again,  as  in  the  days  of  his  innocence,  to  weave 
sweet  dreams  of  intercourse  with  his  kind.  One 
morning,  in  a  fit  of  musing,  he  turned  his  horse's 
head,  almost  involuntarily,  towards  his  once  happy 
.home. 


THE   BRITISH   PARTIZAN.  131 

Ralph  did  not  deceive  himself  with  regard  to  the 
danger  of  returning  again  to  the  haunts  of  men.  He 
hoped  that  the  rancor  of  his  enemies  was  somewhat 
abated  by  his  long  absence,  but  he  could  only  expect 
forgiveness  from  one.  To  her  his  heart  yearned  the 
more  tenderly,  because  her  image  was  connected 
with  the  only  things  pleasant  in  his  bitter  memory,, 
and  was,  beneath  the  sky,  the  only  light  that  shone 
on  his  darkened  spirit.  He  was  riding  along  leisurely 
through  the- scenes  which  reminded  him  of  all  he^ 
had  hoped  and  lost  in  the  course  of  one  year,  when 
a  man  passed  by  him  at  full  gallop,  but  he  thought- 
no  more  of  the  circumstance,  and  had  arrived  safely 
near  the  river,  indulging  in  a  strange  sweet  reverie — 
very  strange  for  one  who  was  approaching  his  coun- 
try without  a  place  to  lay  his  head.  But  he  was 
thinking  of  her,  that  soft  and  loving  being  who  had 
been  always  ready  to  excuse  his  errors  since  child- 
hood. It  is  true  she  had,  at  their  last  dreadful  meet- 
ing, appeared  cold,  and  that  coldness  had  nerved  his 
heart  for  deeds  of  desperation.  But  it  would  have 
been  madness  to  doubt  her  at  that  moment,  when  he 
was  returning  with  a  heart  so  wearied  by  desire  for 
sympathy.  Ralph  Cornet  refused  to  do  so.  Already 
he  was  with  her  in  spirit — a  tender  smile  sat  on  her 
lips,  the  first  it  had  worn  for  months,  and  once  he 
stretched  out  his  arms  to  embrace  her — he  thought 
she  had  forgiven  him.  From  the  luxury  of  this 
dream  he  was  aroused  suddenly  b}r  a  pistol  shot, 
the  ball  from  which  whistled  not  two  inches  above 
his  head.     Before  he  had  time  to  conjecture  whence 


132  THE   BRITISH   PARTIZAN. 

it  came,  he  was  set  upon  by  three  men  who  rushed 
out  from  a  dark  wood,  and^endeavored  to  drag  him 
from  his  borse.  Maintaining  with  difliculty  his 
position,  Ralph  laid  about  him  lustily  with  the  end 
of  the  gun  he  still  carried.  One  of  ftie  men  wan 
soon  laid  on  the  ground  with  the  blood  spouting  from 
his  nostrils,  but  the  other  two  returned  furiously  to> 
the  attack  with  drawn  swords.  Thus  pressed  upun 
both  sides,  he  bore  up  under  several  wounds,  and 
kept  his  seat  in  spite  of  the  curvetings  of  his  fright- 
ened horse;  but  at  length  he  was  run  nearly  through 
the  body,  and  was  obliged  to  clasp  his  arms  around 
the  horse's  neck  to  prevent  falling.  The  assailants 
now  made  sure  of  him,  and  seized  the  horse  to  stop 
his  plunging,  but  Ralph,  with  all  his  remaining 
strength,  struck  the  spurs  into  his  sides,  and  the 
enraged  animal  broke  away  with  a  terrific  snortt 
dashing  those  who  held  him  to  the  ground,  and  the 
next  minute  the  waters  hissed  and  foamed  where  he 
plunged  in  and  beat  them  like  something  mad  or 
wild  with  terror. 

Ralph  held  on  mechanically  during  the  passage  of 
the  river,  but  when  the  horse  bounded  to  the  bank 
and  shook  the  water  from  his  flanks,  his  stiffened 
limbs  were  loosed,  and  he  fell  motionless  to  the 
ground.  The  men  on  the  other  side,  who,  having 
been  advised  of  his  return  by  one  who  had  rode  on 
before  him,  had  waylaid  him  there  with  determined 
revenge,  now  seeing  him  fall  dead  as  they  supposed, 
took  no  further  interest  in  the  matter,  and  Ralph 
Cornet  would  have  died  there  as  he  lav  if  Provi- 


THE   BRITISH   PARTIZAN.  133 

dence  had  not  so  ordained  that  the  African  slave, 
who  had  moved  his  dwelling  higher  up  the  river 
since  his  master's  death,  should  discover  him  as  he 
was  out  that  evening  gathering  wood  to  warm  his 
lonely  cabin. 

Poor  old  Juba  let  his  fagots  fall,  and  lifted  up 
his  hands  and  eyes  in  amazement  at  the  sight  of  that 
bloody  and  inanimate  form.  At  first  he  sat  down 
and  wept  over  him,  bat  perceiving  that  the  heart 
still  beat,  he  made  an  effort  to  bear  him  off.  The  old 
negro  stopped  almost  in  despair  at  finding  how  incom- 
petent he  was  to  the  task  ;  but  he  could  not  give  up 
his  beloved  young  master  to  die  there  in  the  sharp, 
wintry  night  air,  and  after  a  long  time,  by  lifting 
and  dragging,  he  brought  him  to  his  dwelling. 
There  he  laid  him  on  a  pallet  of  fresh  straw,  and 
warmed  him  and  dressed  his  wound  with  a  care, 
which,  if  it  was  not  surgeonly,  was  at  least  tender 
and  kind. 

Ralph  awoke  in  a  delirious  fever,  which  raged 
many  days.  His  faithful  servant  was  terrified  at  his 
incoherent  words  and  the  violence  of  his  gestures ; 
but  he  was  discreet  enough  not  to  hazard  his  chance 
of  recovery  by  apptying  to  his  enemies  for  relief. 
He  took  the  horse  into  the  island,  where  he  fed  him 
secretly,  and  then  went  on  his  way  as  usual  to  escape 
suspicion.  He  applied  the  herbs  and  roots  of  which 
the  simple  pharmacy  of  his  country  is  composed,  to 
the  wounds  of  Ralph,  and  trusted  to  his  strong  natural 
system  for  the  rest.  It  was  triumphant  at  last,  and 
after  some  time  he  looked  around  and  knew  where 


134  THE    BRITISH    PAKTIZAN-. 

t 

he  was ;  but  when  he  attempted  to  rise  he  fell  back 
powerless.  Many  weeks  he  lay  there  in  the  slow, 
lingering  torture  of  recovery.  He  heard  the  birds 
singing  without,  and  felt  the  fresh  breeze  of  spring, 
but  could  not  drag  his  weakened  limbs  to  the  door. 

His  suspense  with  regard  to  Annette  rather  retarded 
his  convalescence.  He  had  learnt  that  she  was  in 
the  fort  not  far  off,  and  he  pined  at  the  thought  of 
being  so  near  without  being  able  to  see  or  hear  from 
her.  His  da}rs  and  nights  were  taken  up  in  contriv- 
ing some  method  of  informing  hej  of  his  existence,. 
with  which,  however,  he  could  trust  no  one  but  him- 
self;  and  his  first  impulse,  soon  as  he  was  able  to 
crawl  out,  was  to  watch  around  the  fort.  On  the 
night  that  General  Pic£ens  saw  him  there,,  in  that 
sad  and  feeble  condition,  he  had  ventured  to  throw 
a  lock  of  Annette's  hair,  which  he  had  preserved4 
through  all  his  trials,  over  the  wallr  feeling  assured 
that  if  she  saw  it  she  would  not  fail  to  recognize  it» 
But  after  that  interview,  he  deemed  it  necessary  to 
ohange  his  dwelling,  for  he  supposed  that  a  search 
would  be  instituted  for  him,  and  he  was  no  longer 
able  to  resist  if  discovered. 

He  built  a  camp  far  in  the  woods,  where  Andrew 
Morrison,  who  had  been  in  search  of  him  for  a 
week,  came  upon  him  on  the  morning  of  the  burial. 
Ralph's  heart  melted  down  at  the  relation  of  the  for- 
lorn and  affecting  situation  of  Annette,  and  as  he 
heard  the  kind  and  soothing  words  of  the  old  Scotch- 
man, he  began  to  feel  the  reviving  influence  of  hope. 
"I  will  see  her  at  all  risks  !  "  he  said.    Accordingly 


THE   BRITISH   PARTIZAN.  135 

he  stationed  himself  where  he  could  watch  the  course 
of  the  burial,  naturally  supposing  that  she  would  be 
the  last  at  the  grave ;  and  her  stay  offered  him  the 
opportunity,  which  he  was  determined  at  all  hazards 
to  seize. 


CHAPTEK  IX. 

"There's  a  divinity  that  shapes  our  ends 
Rough  hew  them  how  we  may." 

Such  was  the  tale  of  his  varied  fortunes,  which 
Ralph  Cornet  recounted  to  the  gentle  and  pitying 
girl.  She  could  not  but  feel  how  different  he  was 
from  the  light-hearted  being  who  had  first  fascinated 
her  young  fancy.  How  changed  in  heart  and  man- 
ners even  from  the  proud  and  brilliant  officer,  who 
six  months  before  sat  almost  on  that  very  spot  at 
her  feet,  so  handsome,  so  buoyant  with  hopes ;  but 
never,' never  in  the  sunny  days1  of  their  unclouded 
love,  had  he  felt  so  endeared  to  her  as  now.  Like 
the  gentle  Desdemona,  she  "  loved  him  for  the  dan- 
gers he  had  passed,"  and  though  she  saw  him 
thwarted  in  his  prospects,  sad  and  subdued  in  spirit, 
friendless  and  homeless,  she  would  not  have  left  him 
for  the  proudest  prince  on  earth  ;  for  the  deeper  the 
desolation  the  more  does  woman  cling  to  the  for- 
saken. 

'When  Annette  returned  to  the  fort,  she  buried 
herself  in  the  seclusion  of  her  tent,  and  asked  advice 
of  no  one  on  the  important  step  she  was  about  to 
take.  She  did  not  repent  of  having  promised  to  fly 
with  him,  but  the  future  presented  to  her  view  a 
dark  uncertainty,  which  even  love,  in  her  present 
mournful  state,  could  not  cheer,  and  she  awaited  her 
destiny  in  a  kind  of  gloomy  apathy.     If  it  is  true 


THE   BRITISH   PARTIZAtf.  137 

that  "coming  events  cast  their  shadows  before,"  it 
was  a  forerunner  of  the  dreadful  despair  she  was 
doomed  soon  to  experience. 

Selina  Anderson  was  near  her,  with  all  the  com- 
fort that  a  tender  heart  can  suggest  for  such  deep 
affliction,  but  Annette  turned  from  her  and  wept. 
She  could  not  resolve  to  discover  to  that  proud  and 
noble  girl  that  she  was  about  to  marry  the  disgraced 
and  exiled  man. 

Mrs.  Cornet,  who  was  necessarily  in  the  secret, 
strengthened  Annette  in  the  resolution.  It  would 
be  hard  to  say  what  were  the  feelings  of  this  lady 
towards  her  unfortunate  brother-in-law.  She  had 
always  loved  him,  and  notwithstanding  her  elevated 
spirit  scorned  the  part  he  had  acted,  she  was  pleased 
to  hear  that  he  meditated  an  escape  from  the  dangers 
which  surrounded  him.  She  felt  a  tender  friendship 
for  Annette,  but  nature  spoke  still  stronger  in  her 
heart  for  him,  and  she  was  soothed  to  think  that  his 
exile  would  not  be  solitary. 

Before  night  Andrew  Morrison  was  observed  to 
leave  the  fort  with  the  French  Minister,  and  return 
alone  into  the  tent  of  Annette  Bruyesant.  This, 
though,,  was  no  unusual  circumstance  and  excited  no- 
suspicion.  * 

Everything  seemed  to  be  propitious  for  their  escape. 
The  gate  was  closed,  and  the  garrison  had  retired 
early  to  rest.  It  was  a  dark  night,  excepting  the 
faint  light  of  the  stars,  for  "  the  moon's  sweet  cres- 
cent" was  only  seen  glimmering  through  the  thick 
trees  on  the  water's  edge. 


138  THE   BRITISH    PARTIZAK. 

Ralph  bad  appointed  to  come  early,  and  already  a 
rope  was  thrown  over  the  wall,  which  Andrew  Mor- 
rison fixed  to  the  ground  by  a  stake,  and  then  cau- 
tiously helped  the  trembling  girl  to  ascend.  From 
the  top  of  the  wall  they  observed  two  men  standing 
in  the  dark  shadow  below,  and  scarcely  had  Annette 
set  her  foot  on  the  ground,  when  one  of  them  rushed 
forward  and  seized  her.  * 

Not  a  word  had  been  spoken  on  either  side,  but 
Annette  gave  a  faint  scream,  and  old  Andrew  noticed 
as  they  moved  off  with  her,  that  neither  of  them  had 
thestature  of  Ralph  Cornet.  The  old  Scotchman  stood 
transfixed  with  horror,  and  his  first  thought  was  to 
alarm  the  garrison ;  for  what  could  he  do,  an  old 
man,  with  those  desperate  ruffians? 

But  the  avenger  was  at  hand  1  Ralph  Comet  was 
also  approaching,  when  he  heard  the  scream,  and  in 
an  instant  he  was  on  the  spot.  One  brief  word  of 
alarm  and  he  was  flying  off  in  the  direction  of  the 
river ;  but  at  that  moment  two  men,  who  had  been 
placed  there  for  the  purpose,  advanced'  from  the  wall 
and  seized  him.  Ralph  felt  for  his  sword,  and  dis- 
covered that  he  was  perfectly  unarmed.  In  the  rap- 
turous excitement  under  which  he  had  set  off,  he  had 
forgotten  even  the  dagger*he  thought  it  prudent  to 
wear  usually.  But  he  shook  off  the  grasp  of  those 
men  as  Samson  did  the  Philistines,  who  seeing  him 
thus  escape,  discharged  their  muskets  after  him  by 
an  appointed  signal.  At  the  same  time  on  the  banks 
of  the  river  stood  the  man  who  yet  grasped  Annette 
with  his  left  arm,  and   the  poor  girl's  head  leaned 


THE   BRITISH   PARTIZAN.  139 

against  bis  shoulder,  for  she  had  fainted.  The  light 
of  the  moon's  silver  horn  fell  clear  upon  the  features 
of  Hugh  Bates.     They  were  fearfully  agitated. 

"  Quick,  quick,  Miller,  and  be  damned  to  you  ! " 
said  he.  "  Don't  you  hear  those  guns  ?  lie  is 
coming!" 

There  was  some  difficulty  in  unfastening  a  canoe. 
One  moment  more  and  Hugh  Bates  had  forever  bid 
him  defiance ;  but  Ralph  Cornet  was  now  standing 
face  to  face  with  his  deadliest  enemy.  His  fierce 
grasp  was  on  the  shoulder  of  Bates,  and  with  the 
other  hand  he  seized  the  insensible  form  of  Annette. 

"Villain  !  "  he  exclaimed,  in  a  voice  hoarse  with 
rage,  "  yield  her  to  me  !  " 

The  eyes  of  Bates  blazed  like  a  wolf's  in  the  dark. 

"In  death,  then!"  he  muttered,  gnashing  his 
teeth,  and  a  dagger  gleamed  in  the  moonlight  over 
the  breast  of  Annette. 

But  Ralph  Cornet  saw  the  flashing  of  the  blade, 
and  letting  go  his  hold  of  Annette,  he  seized  the 
uplifted  arm,  and  with  his  other  hand  grasped  the 
throat  of  the  murderer.  Bates  writhed  under  the 
pain,  and  in  an  effort  of  desperation  he  turned  his 
pliant  limbs  around  the  form  of  Ralph  and  drew 
him  to  the  ground.  Long  and  desperate  then  became 
the  struggle  for  the  dagger.  Bates,  strong  and  active 
at  any  time,  was  in  the  healthy  vigor  of  manhood, 
almost  too  much  for  the  enfeebled  strength  of  Cor- 
net. Once  in  the  contest  the  dagger  dropped  on  the 
ground,  and  the  quick  hands  of  Bates  had  seized  it, 
and  aimed  with  deadly  precision  at  the  throat  of  his 


140  THE    BRITISH    PARTIZAN. 

adversary.  But  Ralph  grasped  his  wrist  with  both 
hands,  and  directed  it  to  his  heart!  The  limbs  of 
Bates  slowly  relaxed  their  clasping  hold,  and  he  lay 
there  a  stiffening  corpse. 

When  Ralph  Cornet  rose  from  that  awful  conflict, 
his  first  thought  was  of  Annette,  but  she  was  gone ; 
and  possessed  of  a  madness  such  as  he  had  never 
before  experienced,  he  rushed  to  the  fort.  Already 
he  was  mounting  the  ladder  which  had  been  left 
there,  but  the  still  vigorous  arm  of  Andrew  Morrison 
was  laid  upon  him. 

11  Haud,  baud,  man !  wad  ye  rin  to  yer  destruc- 
tion ?  "  said  he. 

11  Begone  !  "  exclaimed  Ralph,  impatiently  dash- 
ing the  old  man  aside.  But  he  still  laid  hold  of  him. 

"  Are  ye  mad?"  he  asked.  "Ralph  Cornet,  do 
you  wish  to  die  in  ane  moment  mair?  If  not  for  my 
sake,  for  the  sake  o'  her  wha  loes  ye,  forbear.  She  is 
nae  there,  it  may  be." 

It  was  the  first  time  that  Ralph  had  thought  of 
that.  He  sunk  back  to  the  ground,  and  a  fierce 
convulsive  shaking  seized  him.  He  looked  as  if 
he  were  finding  refuge  in  death.  Andrew  Morri- 
son wiped  the  cold  perspiration  from  his  brow,  and 
as  he  unbuttoned  his  collar  to  give  him  air,  he  per- 
ceived a  stream  of  blood  upon  his  bosom. 

" Mercy!"  exclaimed  he,  in  surprise.  "Ye  hae 
been  wounded  then,  my  puir  bairn  ?  " 

"  It  is  the  blood  of  Bates !  "  said  Ralph,  shivering 
as  he  related  the  distressing  event  which  had  oc- 
curred. 


THE  BRITISH   PARTIZAN.  141 

Every  hour  of  his  life  seemed  to  bring  curses  on 
the  head  of  the  unfortunate  man.  But  the  bitterest 
drop  in  that  bitter  cup  was  the  mysterious  disappear- 
ance of  Annette,  and  his  own  disability  to  seek  for 
her  and  revenge  the  outrage  done  to  her. 

The  old  man,  seeing  the  pitiful  situation  into  which 
he  had  fallen,  attempted  consolation,  and  endeavored 
to  inspire  a  hope  which  he  hardly  felt  himself. 

u  Tak'  heart,  tak'  heart,  my  boy  I*  said  he.  "  Ye 
shall  hae  her  yet !  On  the  word  o'  an  auld  man,  ye 
shall  hae  her  yet !  That  Bates  was  an  awfu'  man, 
an'  yer  mortal  enimy.  Ye  hae  done  weel  in  ridding 
the  airth  o'  a  villainy.  Besides,  ye  could  nae  help 
what  ye  hae  done,  when  the  black  wretch  was  draw- 
ing, as  ain  may  say,  the  verri  lifers  bluid  o'  yer 
heart.  But  be  thankfu',  my  lad ;  he  canna  disturb 
ye  mair,  an'  ye  shall  ha*e  her  yet." 

But  Balph  could  not  wipe  away  from  his  memory 
that  stain  of  blood.  He  was  shocked  at  the  dire 
necessity  which  imposed  it  on  him,  and  maddened 
that  it  involved  the  destruction  of  his  plans.  He 
dared  still  less  than  ever  to  appear  before  his  coun- 
trymen, for  few  of  them  knew  as  well  as  he  the  black 
villainy  of  Hugh  Bates,  and  still  fewer,  he  was 
assured,  would  look  with  unprejudiced  eyes  on  the 
circumstances  attending  his  death. 

Ralph  Cornet  knew  not  himself  the  whole  extent 
to  which  that  villainy  aimed  in  its  accomplishment; 
he,  as  well  as  Annette,  was  ignorant  of  the  agency 
which  Bates  had  had  in  her  father's  death,  and  his 
appearance  at  this  time  and  interference  in  a  plan 
M 


142  THE   BRITISH   PARTIZAN. 

which  Ralph  believed  he  had  projected  in  secret,  was 
a  mystery  which  he  could  not  unravel.  Had  Ralph 
been  quick  enough  in  that  last  interview  by  the  cot- 
tage, to  have  heeded  the  words  of  the  child,  that 
mystery  might  have  been  explained,  or  rather  anti- 
cipated. There  was  an  eye  upon  those  lovers — not 
less  envious,  not  less  malicious,  than*  that  with  which 
the  serpent  regarded  the  first  two  that  ever  found  a 
paradise  on  earth,  and  that  was  the  eye  of  Hugh 

Bates. 

After  that  unsuccessful  pursuit  of  Ralph  Cornet, 
when  he  had  given  him  up  as  lost,  Bates  maintained 
the  character  of  a  good  whig  by  following  the 
American  army.  In  this  he  had  literally  no  choice, 
since  to  be  shot  as  a  deserter  on  one  side,  or  as  a 
traitor  on  the  other,  was  equally  impending  if  he 
had  been  captured.  But  \*hen,  after  the  battle  of 
Cowpens,  he  returned  into  the  neighborhood,  he  was 
left  by  his  own  request  with  the  guard  of  the  fort. 
There,  from  often  seeing  Annette,  his  former  passion 
had  revived,  and  he  dared  once  more  to  look  upon 
her  with  an  eye  of  love.  But  seeing  that  the  gentle 
girl  treated  him  with  a  scorn  she  never  exhibited  to 
others,  he  only  waited  an  opportunity  to  revenge  on 
her  this  contempt  for  his  passion.  The  death  of  her 
father  he  imagined  would  place  her  more  securely 
in  his  power,  and  he  was  laying  a  train,  for  her  in 
his  mind  on  returning  from  Vienna,  after  having 
calmly  attended  the  burial  of  him  he  had  sent  to  the 
grave,  when  he  heard  voices  back  of  the  cottage, 
and  crept  up  closely  to  reconnoitre.     There  he  saw 


THE   BRITISH  PARTIZAN.  143 

the  man  whom  he  believed  dead,  with  his  arms 
around  his  intended  victim,  and  heard  her  vow  to  be 
another's.  If  he  had  been  armed  with  a  rifle,  that 
would  have  been  the  last  moment  of  Ralph  Cornet, 
but  he  had  no  arms  except  the  dagger  which  he 
always  wore;  and  though  fierce  as  a  tiger  when 
roused,  he  dreaded  nothing  more  than  a  personal 
encounter  with  Ralph.  He  held  his  breath  gasp- 
ingly as  the  plot  of  Annette's  escape  was  revealed  to 
him,  and  clenching  his  fist  firmly,  he  muttered  be- 
tween his  grinding  teeth — 

"  To-morrow  night  I— then  to-morrow  night  I  shall 
be  avenged  f " 

He  returned  to  the  fort,  and  permitted  things  to- 
pass  off  in  their  usual  course;  for  Hugh  Bates  knew 
well  the  art  of  dissembling.  But  in  the  meantime 
he  was  busily  maturing  his  plan,  which  was  to  anti- 
cipate Ralph  in  carrying  off  Annette. 

"  I,  too,  can  fly  with  her,"  said  he.  "  When  we 
are  off  she  shall  be  mine  in  spite  of  her,  and  I  shall 
be  gloriously  avenged  on  both." 

With  these  views  he  informed  the  garrison  that 
at  a  particular  place  they  might  take  Ralph  Cornet, 
whom  they  had  believed  dead,  and  having  excused 
himself  from  the  party  on  the  plea  of  private  busi- 
ness, he  left  the  fort  a  little  before  dark,  with  one 
man,  to  whom  he  entrusted  his  scheme.  He  felt 
very  certain  that  the  enmity  of  the  men  "was  suffi- 
cient to  ensure  the  death  of  Cornet,  but  he  advised 
them  if  there  was  any  danger  of  his  escape  to  fire 
for  assistance. 


144  THE  BRITISH   PARTIZAN. 

As  to  his  own  private  matter — determined  that 
his  revenge  should  be  felt  even  in  spite  of  death — 
he  directed  Miller,  the  man  who  accompanied  him, 
in  case  anything  happened  to  himself,  to  fly  with 
Annette  to  some  place  of  concealment. 

The  next  morning  the  body  of  Bates  was  found 
and  buried  on  the  spot.  His  fate  excited  but  little 
sympathy  with  those  who  believed  in  his  guilt,  as 
the  story  was  told  by  Andrew  Morrison ;  but  a 
vigorous  search  was  instituted  for  Ralph  Cornet,  and 
the  place  of  Annette's  imprisonment  kept  closely 
veiled. 

On  the  same  day  of  Bates'  burial  intelligence 
arrived  at  the  fort  of  the  death  of  the  gallant  Lieut. 
Pickens.  He  was  picked  off  by  a  rifleman  before 
the  siege  of  Ninety-six.  As  he  had  expressed  it,  he 
died  "  beloved  and  regretted,"  but  he  did  not  live 
to  see  the  victory  for  which  he  had  so  nobly  con- 
tended. The  mournful  pressure  of  events  which 
immediately  followed  his  death  almost  erased  the 
memory  of  his  loss ;  for  the  lonely  spot  where  his 
grave  was  dug  soon  became  a  burying  ground  for 
soldiers  like  himself.  But  there  was  one  heart  which 
raised  a  proud  monument  to  his  name.  As  the  fresh- 
ness of  grief  wore  away  in  the  bosom  of  Selina 
Anderson,  the  pride  of  his  memory  rose  in  her  soul. 
Yes,  she  could  bear  to  talk  with  a  tearless  eye  of 
him  who  slept, 

"  As  sleeps  the  brave  who  sink  to  rest. 
By  all  their  country's  wishes  blest.1' 


CHAPTER  X. 

"  Why,  let  the  stricken  doer  go  weep, 
The  hart  ungalled  play; 
For  some  must  watch,  whilst  some  must  sleep — 
So  runs  the  world  away." 

Shakspeare. 

"She's  won  I  we  are  off,  over  bank,  bush  and  scaur, 
They'll  have  fleet  steeds  that  fallow,' quoth  young  Lochinvar." 

It  was  a  day  of  public  rejoicing  at  Vienna.  Some 
part  of  the  scattered  remnant  of  the  American  sol- 
diery had  returned  from  Eutaw  into  that  neighbor- 
hood. The  victory  was  nearly  decided,  and  the  voice 
of  exultation,  which  rose  over  the  wail  of  widows 
and  orphans  and  drowned  the  groans  of  the  dying, 
told  to  every  surrounding  echo  that  the  country  was 
free ! 

What  a  day  was  that  for  the  small  remnant  of 
whig  militia — that  firm  patriotic  band,  which  had 
withstood  temptations  and  distress,  poverty  and  hard- 
ships of  every  degree — men  who  left  their  families 
in  the  hands  of  a  murderous  banditti  at  home  and 
went  forth  to  meet  the  foe — 

"Firm  as  a  rock  of  the  ocean  that  stems 
A  thousand  wild  waves  by  the  shore  " — 

and  who  having  now  returned  to  witness  the  woful 
devastation  created  in  their  absence,  could  only  clasp 
their  few  remaining  treasures  and  say,  "  These  are 
mine  own  I  "  It  was  both  a  proud  and  a  bitter  day 
M* 


146  THE   BRITISH    PARTIZAN.  • 

for  them ;  but  they  were  conquerors.  The  foe  was 
retreating  from  the  country,  and  with  the  natural 
sympathies  of  men  who  have  been  associated,  and 
come  safely  out  of  some  dangerous  enterprise,  they 
met  with  hearts  and  tongues  overflowing  with  the 
dangers  they  had  passed. 

The  day  wasyn  sultry  June,  and  tfie  burning  sun 
which  had  seemed  to  set  on  fire  the  low  painted  roofs 
of  the  houses  of  Vienna,  shed  an  oblique  radiance 
upon  the  western  windows,  which  were  now  opened 
to  admit  the  cool'  breeze  springing  up  from  the  river. 
The  single  street  as  well  as  the  houses  was  thronged 
with  men — under  the  shade  of  trees — in  the  piaz- 
zas— sitting,  standing,  walking,  laughing  and  shout- 
ing— in  ever}'  variety  of  rude  and  careless  happiness. 
Some  stood  about  in  groups  resting  on  their  guns, 
which  from  long  habit  had  become  necessary  to 
their  comfort;  whilst  some  one  of  the  number, 
swelling  with  the  importance  of  fancied  advantage 
over  the  rest,  told  .with  a  boastful  air  the  tale  of  fyts 
"  deeds  in  arms,"  how  he  had  fought  in  such  a  battle, 
or  how  he  had  gulled  such  a  tory.  All  of  which 
his  auditors  approved  by  loud  laughing  and  signifi- 
cant gestures.  But  it  was  observed  that  none  laughed 
so  loud  as  those  who  had  the  most  doubtful  right  to 
sympathise  with  the  speaker ;  for  though  the  pride 
of  the  whigs,  together  with  the  recent  wrongs  they 
had  suffered  at  their  hands,  caused  them  to  scorn  all 
offers  of  friendship  from  the  crest  fallen  tories,  there 
were  yet  very  many  among  that  class,  who,  by  a 
prudent  caution,  had  reserved  themselves  a  place 


THE   BRITISH   PARTIZA'N.  147 

among  the  conquering  party.  Many  of  these  now 
mingled  with  the  under  class  of  whigs  who  filled  the 
grog  shops  with  bacchanalian  revelry,  and  it  was  not 
uncommon  to  see  a  boasting  whig  who  had  advanced 
into  the  highest  state  of  quarrelsome  intermeddling, 
step  out,  and  rolling  up  the  sleeves  from  his  brawny 
arms,  challenge  another  man  to  prove  himself  not  a 
tory.  It  was  all  a  scene  of  noise  and  bustle — a  true 
picture  of  the  disorders  and  license  of  a  state  of 
recent  warfare,  and  a  natural  evidence  of  the  haughti- 
ness with  which  man  assumed  power.  Some  others 
of  the  younger  men  even,  who  had  rested  their  guns 
against  the  houses,  and  engaged  in  the  peaceful  game 
of  running,  wrestling  or  ball-playing,  whenever  a 
man  was  seen  passing  along  the  road  at  a  distance, 
or  skulking  under  the  bushes,  would  shout  the  word 
"  Tory  !  "  from  one  to  the  other,  and  chase  him  out 
of  sight,  with  the  loud  laugh  and  broad  haloo  of 
childish  delight.  As  the  fox  which  has  been  the 
terror  of  the  farm-yard,  after  having  been  run  down 
and  disarmed  of  its  power  by  the  huntsman,  is  crowed 
and  cackled  over  by  the  delighted  fowls,  and  pelted 
with  stones  and  pulled  about  by  the  revengeful  child- 
ren, thus  these  deluded  beings,  no  longer  feared,  were 
become  the  butt  of  the  conquering  party — objects 
merely  deserving  the  indignities  of  con  tempt.  •There 
was  only  one,  who  by  the  high  character  of  his  bold 
and  lofty  defiance,  seemed  to  be  worthy  of  their 
resentment.  He  had  baffled  and  evaded  them.  His 
indomitable  spirit  refused  to  sue  or  submit,  and 
though  he  had  committed  fewer  deeds  of  abhorrence 


148  THE   BRITISH    PARTIZAN. 

than  any  one  of  the  vile  class  with  whom  he  had 
been  associated,  his  countrymen  hated  him  with  the 
deepest  and  most  deadly  hatred ;  for  the  tyrannical 
heart  of  man  is  too  haughty  in  the  hour  of  victory 
to  suffer  any  defiance.  But  Ralph  Cornet,  by  ths 
superior  finesse  of  his  motions,  had  as  }7et  eluded 
their  grasp.  They  hunted  him  as  the  wild  beast  is 
hunted  in  the  wilds  of  Africa,  with  sword  and  spear, 
but  though  he  was  known  to  be  yet  in  the  neighbor- 
hood, no  hand  could  be  laid  upon  him. 

Thus  thwarted,  his  enemies  had  but  one  way  of 
revenging  themselves.  It  is  true  they  had  seized 
his  broad  lands  on  the  Savannah  by  sequestration, 
but  they  knew  that  the  only  way  to  wring  the  soul 
of  Ralph  was  to  deprive  him  of  his  betrothed — his 
beloved  Annette.  And,  however  strange  it  may 
appear,  it  is  no  less  true  that  this  arbitrary  measure 
against  an  innocent  and  unoffending  girl,  was  put 
into  rigid  execution. 

As  the  evening  advanced,  however,  a  party  of  the 
conquerors,  a  part  from  these,  were  preparing  for  a 
more  refined  species  of  enjoyment.  A  large  room  of 
a  house  on  the  bank  of  the  river,  was  filled  to 
crowding  with  people  of  both  sexes.  It  was  the 
same  room  in  which  the  brave  Pickens  sat  a  few 
months  before  when  he  gave  audience  to  the  wily 
Bates.  They  were  both  gone  ;  the  noble  patriot  and 
the  vile  intriguer  had  alike  sunk  into  the  vortex  of 
the  stream  which  deluged  their  country,  and  theVe 
upon  the  very  spot  where  they  had  concerted  plans 
of  such  vital  interest  to  one  of  them  at  least,  their 


THE  BRITISH  PARTIZAN.  140 

survivors,  with  that  strange  insensibility  to  death 
which  always  attends  times  of  danger,  were  making 
merry.  A  ring  was  cleared  in  the  centre  of  the 
room  for  dancing,  and  as  the  fiddler  entered  and 
began  the  tantalizing  exercise  of  calling  into  order 
his  rebellious  strings,  giving  every  now  and  then  an 
encouraging  twitch  of  the  elbow  over  the  shrieking 
catgut,  the  young  men  j  umpedup  in  eager  anticipation 
and  capered  about  the  room.  Some  were  in  white 
stockings  and  pumps,  with  yellow  small  clothes,  which 
they  had  just  purchased  from  some  itinerant  mer- 
chant peddling  through  the  country;. but  most  of 
them  wore  their  high-heeled  boots,  with  yellow  tops 
turned  over  from  the  tights  of  Kersey  or  homespun, 
which  had  perhaps  borne  the  brunt  of  war.  Never- 
theless, each  one  felt  himself  irresistible  in  the  eyes 
of  the  young  ladies,  who,  silly  creatures,  simpered 
and  whispered  among  each  other,  still  casting  timid 
and  lively  glances  at  their  invincible  warriors. 

But  there  was  one  countenance  in  that  assembly 
which  moved  not  for  all  that  merriment,  no  more 
than  if  it  had  fallen  on  the  dull,  cold  ear  of  death.  It 
was  the  pale  face  of  Annette  Bruyesant,  who  sat  in 
one  corner,  far  as  possible  from  the  revellers,  in  the 
stiff  and  rigid  attitude  of  marble.  No  motion  be- 
trayed the  vitality  which  animated  that  statue.  No 
tear,  no  sigh,  no  glance  evinced  the  sensibilities  of  a 
wounded  spirit.  But  her  eyes  were  fixed  upon  the 
opposite  window  in  the  cold  glassy  gaze  of  despair, 
and  her  hands  were  folded  in  her  lap  in  the  mute 
eloquence  of  submission. 


150  THE  BRITISH   PARTIZAN. 

As  the  dancing  went  on  she  was  left  alone.  No 
one  was  sufficiently  hard-hearted  to  insult  her  misery 
by  asking  her  to  join  them.  She  had  only  been 
forced  to  attend  her  guardians  there,  for  fear  some 
effort  should  be  made  for  her  escape  in  their  absence. 

The  time  was  past  when  that  sweet  girl  could  make 
any  resistance,  and  she  was  now  perfectly  passive  in 
the  hands  of  her  persecutors.     If  she  felt,  she  showed 
no  resentment  towards   them.     She  might  perhaps 
have  approved  the  justness  of  Ralph  Cornet's  con- 
demnation— she  never  for  a  moment  thought  of  for- 
saking him.     No,  the  more  wretched  an  outcast  he 
became,  the  more  did  that  faithful  girl  believe  it  her 
duty  to  cling  to  him;  and  as  she  sat  in  that  appa- 
rently apathetic  posture,  her  thoughts  were  bound 
up  in  a  painful  dream.     But  it  was  not  of  herself 
she  was  thinking.     It  was  of  him — of  Ms  griefs,  and  " 
loneliness,   and   dangers.     Could   she  have  thrown 
herself  in  his  arms  at  that  moment,  the  language  of 
her  heart  would  have  been : 

"  Thou  hast  called  me  thine  angel  in  moments  of  bliss, 
Still  thine  angel  I'll  be  'mid  the  horrors  of  this." 

But  despair,  despair  of  ever  seeing  him  was  doing 
its  dreadful  work  there,  and  her  heart  continued  to 
weep  its  drops  of  blood.  In  this  situation  she  did 
not  perceive  that  any  one  approached  her  until  she 
felt  herself  touched  lightly  on  the  shoulder,  and, 
turning  round,  she  met  the  eyes  of  Andrew  Morri- 
son for  the  first  time  since  her  captivity,  who,  with 
a  cautious  look  around  them,  dropped  a  piece  of 
paper  in  her  hand.     Annette  grasped  the  paper  and 


THE   BRITISH   PARTIZAN.  15 1 

turned  her  back  instinctively  on  the  company.  A 
fearful  change  came  over  her  face  as  she  devoured 
the  scrawl.  It  merely  contained  the  words  in  rude 
characters — 

"Beat  the  window  an  hour  hence.     I  shall  be  there" 

The  blood  rushed  into  Annette's  face  until  it  be- 
came lurid,  and  her  veins  swelled  until  they  were 
visible  on  the  surface  of  her  beautiful  forehead. 
Then  again  she  became  ghastly  pale,  and  gasped  for 
breath.  As  she  turned  to  speak  to  the  old  man  the 
words  died  away  with  a  choking  noise  in  her  throat. 
But  Andrew  Morrison  had  left  her  side.  The  wary 
old  man  knew  that  suspicion  already  rested  upon 
him,  and  upon  his  caution  now  depended  the  success 
of  his  undertaking. 

At  this  time  a  very  different  scene  was  acting  in 
a  house  exactly  opposite  that  in  which  the  ball  was 
going  on.  There  a  wounded  man  lay  upon  a  pallet 
on  the  floor  to  get  the  cool  air  of  evening,  and  his 
head  rested  on  the  bosom  of  a  handsome  woman, 
who  was  pulling  back  the  thick  masses  of  raven 
hair  from  his  brow.  As  she  did  so,  the  tears  fell 
from  her  heavy  eyelids  on  the  worn  and  wasted  fea- 
tures of  the  dying  man. 

u  My  own  Ellen !  "  said  he,  as  he  wiped  off  the 
tears  from  his  face,  "  do  not  weep  so,  you  will  kill 
me  before  my  time  by  your  grief." 

"Oh,  James!"  said  she,  in  a  voice  which  was 
racked  with  anguish,  "  how  can  I  help  it,  to  hear  all 
this  noise  and  rejoicing,]and  you  lying  here? " 

aDo  not  let  that  disturb  you,  my  love,"  replied 


152  THE   BRITISH   PARTIZAN. 

her  husband,  with  a  faint  attempt  at  smiling.  "  It  is 
the  nature  of  man  to  forget  in  prosperity  the  mea'ns 
by  which  he  gained  it.  Why  should  I  think  to  be 
remembered  more  than  the  thousands  who  lie  on  the 
field  of  battle?" 

"  Oh,  but  James,  they  might  respect  you  while 
that  }tou  are  living — you  who  are  dying  for  them,  as 
I  may  say."  And  she  burst  into  a  fresh  agony  of 
tears.  • 

"  No,  Ellen,  no,"  answered  the  dying  man  with 
fervor.  "I  die  for  the  cause — the  glorious  cause! 
And — ,"  he  continued,  his  faded  eyes  sparkling  with 
some  of  their  wonted  brilliancy,  "  and  we  are  free  ! 
thank  heaven,  we  are  free ! " 

As  the  glow  of  enthusiasm  died  away  from  the 
hollow  cheek  of  the  soldier,  he  sunk  back  exhausted, 
and  lay  for  some  time  silent.  It  was  evident  his 
hour  was  fast  approaching.  His  breath  at  times  came 
thick  and  gaspingly,  and  his  eyes  rolled  upward. 
But  the  sobs  of  his  w.ife  seemed  again  to  disturb 
him. 

"Ellen  1 "  said  he,  almost  in  a  whisper  "  my  good 
Ellen — you  have  always  been  kind  to  me !  Do  not 
grieve  so  if  you  would  have  me  die  contented.     I 

could  have  wished but  no  matter.     It  is  God's 

will,  and  I  have  but  one  wish  on  earth — it  is  to  see 
my  poor  Ralph  before  I  die.  It  is  too  late  now.  But 
you  said  that  Annette  Bruye'sant  was  here.  Send 
for  her  that  I  may  tell  her — tell  her  I  forgive  him." 

A  few  minutes  after  Annette  had  read  the  paper 
.and  resumed  her  seat  with  apparent  calmness,  a  little 


THE   BRITISH   PARTIZAN.  153 

boy  made  his  way  through  the  crowd  and  threw 
himself  on  her  lap,  crying  bitterly.  All  that  could 
be  extracted  from  him  was  that  his  father  was  dying 
and  wished  to  see  Annette  Bruye*sant.  It  was  a 
sight  to  have  melted  a  heart  of  stone,  and  these 
hearts  already  softened  by  the  sweetness  of  Annette's 
temper,  coui-d  not  refuse  her  this  sad  duty.  She 
followed  the  child  across  the  street,  almost  surprised 
at  the  liberty  granted  her. 

So  soon  as  she  was  gone  Andrew  Morrison  also  left 
the  room,  but  there  was  no  heed  given  to  his  actions — 
the  amusements  went  on  unabated. 

By  the  time  Annette  reached  the  house  some  of 
his  former  friends  were  gathered  round  the  pallet  of 
the  dying  soldier;  but  he  paid  them  no  attention. 
His  gaze  was  fixed  on  Annette  as  she  knelt  beside 
him,  her  eyes,  before  so  cold  and  motionless,  now 
•streaming  with  tears.  He  clasped  her  hand  with  all 
his  remaining  strength  and  his  lips  moved,  but  An- 
nette heard  no  sound  until  she  leaned  her  ear  close 
to  his  face. 

"You  will  see  him,"  said  he,  in  broken  sentences; 
"tell  him — my  brother — that — I  loved  him  to  the 
last!" 

He  now  struggled  for  utterance — a  low  gurgling 
sound  was  heard  in  his  throat,  and  his  wife  threw 
herself  in  distraction  on  his  breast.  But  he  opened 
his  eyes — 

"  Ellen — my  boy — where  is  Willie  ?  "     The  child 
crept  up,  and  put  his  little  hand  into  that  of  his 
father.  "  Make  him  a  soldier — you  hear  that,  Ellen — 
N 


154  THE  BRITISH   PARTIZAN. 

and — raise  me  a  little  higher,  love — it  is  dark  here— 

and — do  not — let  bim  be — a — a  traitor — to — to ." 

His  voice  failed  him,  and  his  head  sunk  on  his  breast. 

In  a  few  minutes  the  soldier's  children  were  or- 
phans ;  for  James  Cornet  lay  there  a  corpse,  one  of 
the  noblest  victims  to  the  battle  of  Eutaw. 

Annette  threw  her  arms  around  tfoe  widowed 
mother — the  kind  soother  of  her  own  bereavement — 
and  wept  long  with  her.  At  length  she  arose  and 
walked  out  upon  the  piazza.  The  street  was  still 
busy  with  its  crowd,  and  the  sound  of  that  music 
with  the  heavy  tramp  of  the  dancers  came  to  her 
ear.  Her  heart  sickened,  and  she  leaned  against  a 
column  for  support.  Then  the  thought  of  her  own 
uncertain  destiny  came  over  her  mind  with  agonizing 
force,  and  she  envied  the  man  who,  in  that  Chamber 
of  death,  was  released  so  easily  and  happily  from  a 
world  which  appeared  so  dark  to  her. 

At  that  moment  a  horseman  was  seen  ascending 
the  hill  of  that  thronged  street,  in  full  view  of  the 
windows  of  the  ball-room.  He  was  riding  a  horse 
of  prodigious  size  and  beauty,  which  seemed  to  yield 
to  every  motion  of  the  rider,  as  his  graceful  swan- 
like neck  obeyed  the  impulse  of  the  rein. 

Annette  raised  her  clasped  hands  to  heaven,  and 

stood  with  her  lips  apart,  all  her  blood  curdling  with 

surprise  and  terror.      Sjhe  remembered    the  paper 

;  she  had  received.     It  was  the  appointed  hour,  and  it 

.  could  be  no  other  than  Ealph  Cornet.     But  would 

( even  he  dare  thus  much  ? 

.The  men  who  filled  the  streets  stood  regarding  the 


THE   BKITISH   PARTIZAN.  155 

approaching  stranger  with  surprise  greater  than  her's. 
The  hand  of  every  man  dropped  on  his  gun,  but 
remained  there  motionless,  and  a  death-like  silence 
reigned  where  all  before  was  confusion — so  great  was 
the  curiosity  and.  awe  which  that  majestic  horseman 
excited1  as  he  galloped  fearlessly  as  it  were  against 
the  very  bayonets  of  his  enemies.  The  keen  eye  of. 
Ralph  had  descried  that  well  known  form*  and'  in 
an  instant  he  stood  by  the  door,  all  unconscious  how 
nearly  he  was  connected  with  the  painful  scene 
within.  "  Haste,  haste,  Annette!  "  said  he,  and  he 
pulled  the  fainting  form  of  the  poor  girl  to  his  saddle- 
bow. One  touch  of  the  rein,  and  the  proud  animal, 
as  if  conscious  of  his  master's  triumph,  arched  his 
high  neck,  and  with  a  bound  flew  towards  the  river 
bank.  Then,  as  if  some  spell  of  enchantment  had 
been  loosed,  the  men  moved  from  every  part  of  the 
village.  Every  gun  was  raised,  and  curses  rang  on. 
the  name  of  Ralph  Cornet.  But  by  the  time  they 
reached  the  river's  side  the  noble  horse  was  beating 
the  waters  with  his  broad  breast,  far  into  the  middle 
of  the  current. 

Why  did  not  these  men  fire  ?  There  was  not  one 
but  knew  from  the  first  that  it  was  Ralph  Cornet. 
Was  it  a  sympathy  with  the  beautiful  and  simple 
boldness  of  this  action  which  deterred  them  ?  Or, 
was  it  the  native  horror  which  man  has  against  inter- 
fering with  anything  already  in  the  hands  of  God? 
Certain  it  is  that  they  saw  those  two  beings,  wholiad 
suffered  so  long,  piteously  struggling  there  in  the 
midst  of  that  wide  river,  and  not  a  gun  was  dis- 


156  THE   BRITISH   PARTIZAN. 

charged.  Bat  when  that  noble  animal  bounded, 
trippingly,  on  the  opposite  shore,  with  his  brave 
and  beautiful  burden,  a  low  and  suppressed  murmur 
of  admiration  and  astonishment  ran  along  that  crowd 
of  men,  which  only  a  few  moments  before  were 
breathing  curses. 

For  a  moment  did  Ealph  Cornet  pause  and  turn 
his  gaze  upon  the  spot  he  had  left  behind.  Annette 
lay  with  her  arms  around  him,  and  he  bent  over  and 
kissed  her  cheek  as  it  were  in  defiance.  A  wild,  a 
joyous,  a  triumphant  laugh  rang  over  the  waters  as 
the  horse  wheeled  round  and  was  seen  bounding 
along,  for  some  distance,  under  the  dark  shadowy 
trees,  extending  out  from  the  high  grassy  bank. 
Ralph  Cornet  had  turned  his  back  forever  on  his 
country. 

In  a  sweet  sequestered  spot,  where  a  little  stream 
wound  along  through  grassy  banks,  and  where  a 
rustic  bridge  was  half  overhung  with  a  canopy  of 
pendant  vines,  Andrew  Morrison,  that  faithful  friend, 
was  awaiting  them  with  the  French  minister.  The 
sun  was  just  sinking  below  the  trees,  and  the  sweet 
birds,  lifting  up  their  voices  in  the  chorus  of  evening, 
sang  the  marriage  hymn  of  Ralph  Cornet  and  his 
Annette.  After  so  much  suffering  and  trial,  he  felt 
himself  amply  compensated  when  he  clasped  her  to 
his  bosom — his  own  ! 

They  then  bid  those  last  and  dear  friends  adieu, 
and'  were  turning  to  depart,  when  a  strange  and 
somewhat  ludicrous  figure  started  up  from  against  a 


THE   BRITISH   PARTIZAN.  157 

tree,  exclaiming,  in  an  humble  but  reproachful  ac- 
cent : 

"  Massa  Ralph,  no  Iebe  ole  nigger  stay  here,  eh  ?  r 

"  No,  my  good  Juba,  no/r  said  Ralph.  "  You 
shall  go  if  you  wish  it." 

"  Ha,  ha  !  "  laughed  the  Afriotfn.  "  Ole  nigger  go 
for  true.  No  stay  here  for  dam  tory  gun — whiplash. 
Juba  follow  hia  massa  to  eend  ob  de  world."  And 
slinging  his  huge  bundle  on  a  stick  across  his  shoul- 
der, old  Juba  trudged  on  after  the  only  being  he 
loved  on  earth. 

The  world  of  Ralph  Cornet's  acquaintance  was 
lost  in  conjecture.  ■  Even  his  enemies  would  have 
given  up  their  resentment  for  some  knowledge  of 
that  bold  and  extraordinary  man.  But  the  old 
Scotchman  was  the  only  depository  of  that  secret, 
and  to  his  dying  day  he  never  revealed  the  place 
where  the  British  Partizan  carried  his  bride. 


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